Dark Duck X3: Continuum Conundrum
by VAPX007
Summary: Take a trip through the multiverse with a few Darkwing Ducks. DWs start switching uncontrollably between AUs with some scary results. 4yrs on. Warning for violence. New Chapter: AKV P5. All chapters SPLIT.
1. Life

Disclaimer: Disney owns a ton of stuff including Darkwing Duck.

Thank you to: Tad Stones, Ian Brill, Jim Cummings and all associated employees who created the idea and gave life to Darkwing Duck, Darkwarrior Duck and their assorted criminal companions.

Thank you to: Phoenix Ride for the idea of Metalwing who will be appearing in his own episode in this story.

Thank you to: Gene Roddenberry for the inspiration behind Cosmoduck who also will be appearing in his own episode in this story. I laugh maniacally at how much havoc I shall have Cosmoduck wreak!

Thank you to: Gaston Leroux, Lee Falk and Ray Moore for the inspiration behind Phantom Duck. Some very dark, potent stuff is available for me to explore in this episode. I shall have a lot of fun delving into this!

Thank you to: Ian Brill et al for Quiverwing Duck. Also to Gryphinwyrm7 and Celey because I haven't got the comic yet, I've made him up based solely on their story depiction. You guys have provided me with a character challenge that I shall take!

Claimer: Dark Duck! Me! My ideas on vampires are based on years and years of research and mental extrapolation. They are unique from any other vampire that I have read or watched. I write vampires this way because that's how I want to read them.

This story is being posted on request by Phoenix Ride. Any comments, questions or advice by anyone will be greatly appreciated.

"I am the Quack in the Dark. You are now entering The Twilight Zone! I am The Quiverwing Quack!"

A/N: Please forgive my lack of formatting. The upload feature is not working very well. Pretend all author note stuff are in italics. Pretend all the extracts from the episode 'Time and Punishment' are in italics.

**

* * *

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Chapter One: Life

* * *

"Alright, just hold it! This isn't you, I think that inside you're still Darkwing Duck." She took his arms, an affectionate expression on her face. "And you're still my dad." Affection, but she was a criminal. Darkwarrior dropped the hose and pulled out his weapon, aiming it at her.

She stuck her finger in the end of it. "I'm not afraid of your old gas gun!" His daughter announced boldly.  
"Gas gun?" He repeated in surprise. "I haven't used a gas gun in years." He changed the setting of his multi-purpose weapon to missile mode so that it was obvious to her. "I should've recognised you as a bad egg from the start." He reasoned, advancing on her. "You never cleaned your room. Never helped with the dishes, never did well in school. If that isn't a list of criminal tendencies, I don't know what is."

Backing up, Gosalyn hit the wall behind her. The look on her face was tragic.  
"There's no reason I shouldn't blast you into a smudge." He pointed it closer at her and she put her fingers in her ears, waiting for the explosion. "But I-I just can't do it."

Something hit his head before he could sort through this mental problem and everything went black.

* * *

Darkwarrior Duck woke up, his head was pounding. He looked around him. There was a brick wall in front of him and to his left there was green grass that lay beyond a chicken wire fence.

"Who did that?" He growled. There was no one around, and they had just left him there. "So, they think they can get away with this, do they?" He looked up at his security robots. "Identify: who clobbered me?"  
"Launchpad McQuack."  
"Life imprisonment was obviously too easy for him."

He looked around. Gosalyn was long gone as well. The criminal waiting to happen had escaped. If only he hadn't hesitated, he could have solved that problem. "Locate: Gosalyn Mallard."  
"Unknown."  
"Alright, Locate: Megavolt and Quackerjack."  
"Unknown."  
"So then where's the time machine?"  
"Unknown."

He snarled. "It's a good job I don't pay you, you hulking pieces of useless metal. Locate: Launchpad McQuack."  
"Launchpad McQuack is in transit approaching Audubon Bay Bridge."  
"Oh yeah? Well, he won't get far." Darkwarrior picked up his modified weapon lying there beside him. "Let's see if McQuack knows what's happened to Gosalyn before I kill him."

* * *

"Hey, no use taking chances." Launchpad held the dinted frying pan.  
"I knew you couldn't do it, dad." Gosalyn said affectionately, picking up his hat.  
At any time, Darkwarrior could wake up, and then Gosalyn was finished. "I'd get going if I was you." Launchpad said as firmly as he could, yet trying to stave off the worry in his voice. They'd all be done for once Darkwarrior woke up. "He may be smiling now, but he won't be when he wakes up!"

* * *

They got the time top juiced up again and loaded up with the three travellers. Gosalyn popped up through the hatch to say goodbye to him. "Don't worry; once I get back to my own time, none of this will have ever happened."

Quackerjack popped up beside Gosalyn as she stood on the steps leading up to the hatch of the time top. "Come on, come on, come on."  
Megavolt popped up a moment after him, also eager to get going and away from Darkwarrior as fast as possible.  
"Are you sure it's a good idea to take them along?" Launchpad called up to her. "After all, they're hardened criminals. Maybe they should stay locked up here?"

The two criminals started begging Gosalyn. "Oh no, no, please, please take me, please, don't listen to him." Megavolt implored her.  
Gosalyn shrugged. "If there's one thing that this has taught me, it's that every person deserves the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I don't know how to drive this thing." She closed the lid behind her.

With an electrical spark and hum, the time top spun into thin air.

* * *

"It didn't work ..."

Launchpad was in a fit of nerves as he drove his taxi onto the bridge. Not only had the timeline not magically changed when Megavolt and Quackerjack's time top had vanished, but he'd hit Darkwarrior over the head in order to save Gosalyn. He gulped. "Forget life and hard labour. I'm dead."

On this thought he glimpsed into his rear vision mirror. Two of Darkwarrior's security robots were honing in on him. His hands went sweaty on the wheel. It was a minute later and Darkwarrior's flyer came forwards and paralleled him on the road.

* * *

"Alright, pull over, you criminal." Darkwing pointed his missile configured gun at his old side kick.  
"I thought you'd have a question for me first. We always talked on the road before; we never had to pull over to do it."  
"Fine." Darkwarrior shrugged, continuing to aim his weapon at Launchpad as they hurtled along the bridge. "Where's Gosalyn?"  
"She went back in time."  
"With Quackerjack's time top?"  
"Yes."  
"With Megavolt and Quackerjack?"  
"Yes."

"That's all I wanted to know." Darkwarrior fired the weapon, Launchpad swerved to avoid getting hit. As the taxi exploded, it hit the side of the bridge, smashed through the concrete barrier, and the flaming wreck went over the side and into the bay, taking the old pilot with it.

"Too easy. He was always too soft. I can't believe I ever listened to him." Darkwarrior sank back into the pilot's seat, releasing the auto pilot's control. "Now, where am I going to get another time machine?"

* * *

Gosalyn had gone back to the past, thus creating a universal parallel. That posed a different problem for Darkwarrior. In order to fix the damage that Gosalyn had caused that other universe by returning to it, Darkwarrior had to invent something that not only traversed time, but the E Space between universes.

It was a long time as Darkwarrior worked in his security lab, studying universal theorems and time travel. But finally, he had found the true problem, identified the solution, and now he had created the mechanism needed to resolve it.

The shadowy figure stood over the large buzzing contraption. Kilowatts of power rippled along the cabling. The central spherical unit glowed brightly, and all the machinery was humming. "I may not be able to fix history and make it crime free, but I can fix the failing within myself."

He took a glove off and with his bare hand he reached for a power cable. "Goodbye, Darkwing Duck!" He laughed demonically. With his other hand, he pulled the switch, electrifying himself for a long moment. "That ought to ..." he coughed, "do it." He staggered away, and fell to the floor.

The security robots hovered uncertainly around his singed unmoving form.

* * *

A/N: This story is being posted at the request of Phoenix Ride. Enjoy all! Once again, any advice, hints, questions or comments will be appreciated and utlilised to improve my writing for you as an audience. To do this, one can click on the link that says 'Review this chapter' below this line ...


	2. St Canard Prime Part 1

_A/N: _'Parallels' _and _'Cause and Effect' _are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals._

_A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is._

A/NL Okaay, so I've split this chapter, which would've been easier for me to post in the first place considering the hours and hours and hours it took for me to get it from text to ... whatever the heck format that Fan uses.

* * *

**St.**** Canard Prime: Part 1**

* * *

Part One

Dark Duck stood up, his head spinning. He collapsed to the ground again, trying to make sense of the static in his head.

"Gosalyn?" He stood up in a panic. "Where are you?" He spun around on the spot. "M-Morg?" They were gone. "Raya?" He crumpled to the ground in mourning.

"Hey, look, it's Darkwing Duck. Let's get him!"

" 'Get him'?" Dark stood up, feeling calmer in the face of the familiar. He turned to shadow and dodged the two thugs. They spun around looking for him, and he snapped a pair of handcuffs between them before they could throw a single punch. "It's been a long while since I heard that line, fellas." He turned around to them, his cape swirling. "Let me get you a cab to the police station."

"Hey, we ain't done nothing wrong."  
"Yeah, let us go."  
"What about that robbery you two did last week on old mister Wicker's place, Scree?"  
"How'd you know about that?"  
"Oh, I know everything about you, Yale." He smiled quietly at them.  
"Impossible."  
"Sure, like you're really telepathic or something."  
"Well, I am. For example; the cab I promised. Here it is." He gestured to the oncoming vehicle. The police car slowed to a stop right in front of them. A police officer got out, with a puzzled expression on his face.

* * *

"What am I ...?"  
"These are for you, officer Newton." Darkwing Duck offered him in his typical detective tone of voice. "Drunken, disorderly and causing a public menace. Yale and Scree here, also have something to say about last week's burglary on Wicker's place."

Bob Newton bundled them into the car. "Oh, by the way, how did you ..." The officer turned and looked around the empty street. "Call me?" Overhead, a bat chirruped as it flew high up into the sky. Otherwise the night was still and silent. Bob shrugged and turned back to the car.

"Wait a minute, what's freaked you two out?" Their eyes were wide and their faces were a gaunt white.  
"V-v-v ...!" Yale stuttered.  
"There was a v-vampire." Scree announced.  
"Oh, please." Bob groaned as he got back into the car. He turned to his partner. "When we get back, we'll get a tox' screen on these two grunge addicts." He told her as she drove them back to the station. "I think they're stoned totally out of their minds."

"No! He was a v-v-v ... Darkwing Duck was a-a ..." Yale's voice was a weak squeak.  
"Don't worry; once we get you processed you can have a nice bunk all to yourself in a nice secure cell and sleep it off."  
"S-s-sleep? Y-you mean ... with the l-lights off?" Yale squeaked again.

"I-isn't that when ... when they come and g-get you? He's a bat; he could just slip in through the bars."  
Bob grunted. "We're too far north for vampire bats, guys."  
"No, you don't understand! It was a real one. For real, he turned into a bat." Scree claimed.

"Well, maybe if you're good and tell the truth, the vampire won't get you." Bob mocked.  
"Y-yeah! W-we'll tell you everything! Sure! Won't we, Yale?"  
"Yes! Yes, definitely yes!"


	3. St Canard Prime Part 2

_A/N: _'Parallels' _and _'Cause and Effect' _are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals._

_A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is._

* * *

**St.**** Canard Prime: Part 2**

* * *

Part Two

Dark Duck's family had been demolished in moments. He wanted to find out the monster that did this so he could ... eat ... him. Goodness only knew, but it'd only happen to someone else next time.

He landed on the back step of the Mallard residence, changing back to duck shape. He took the handle in his grip, taking a long deep breath. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see this. He really didn't want to know. He turned the handle, and nothing happened. The door didn't budge.

"Locked?" He focused his mind on the nearby Vespers and unlocked it. 'Poor Morgana, she probably locked it to try and keep Raya safe.' He stepped in through the doorway.

He looked around. "What?" There was nothing the matter with the place. Not what he'd come to expect of a scene of crime: the horror that instantly filled his mind and curdled his stomach, the smell of spoiled blood, the ghostly remains of the last few seconds of life. The lounge room looked perfectly normal.

He looked into the kitchen. "Morgana?" He delved into the cupboards, rifled through the kitchen drawers, looked into the fridge, and then checked the oven. Finally, with one last thought, he snatched the old cookie jar from the sideboard, and emptied the contents onto a plate on the table.

"Hey, dad. Oo, chocolate chip!" Gosalyn, at ten years old, grabbed one of the cookies and shoved it into her mouth.

Dark Duck screamed.

* * *

Her dad flung himself away from her. "That's done it, that's done it! I've gone mad!" He crumpled into a heap and let out a sob. Tears were in his eyes.

"Dad!" She rushed over to him. "Dad, what's going on, what's the matter? I'm sorry I had the cookie. I know you're always telling me not to spoil my dinner but you had them out and I ..." Gosalyn stopped. Why was her dad wearing black and grey?

He lunged forward and had her in a fierce hug. "Oh, my little girl."  
"Dad? Dad!" He put her down, much to her relief; that was a bit intense. Gosalyn was really beginning to worry about Darkwing now.

He put his hand on her head. He was still trembling and he stared, transfixed by the vision of her.  
"What's happened to you, dad? Have you been possessed by aliens again?"  
"What do you mean what's happened to me? What's happened to you?"  
"Why, have I grown or something?"  
"You've shrunk."

* * *

Dark turned away from her and looked at the cookies. "The kitchen's all wrong. These aren't Morgana's cookies."  
"Morgana? These are from Mrs. Muddlefoot, dad."  
He slowly moved past Gosalyn and walked into the lounge room. "What happened to the furniture?"  
"Nothing ... Well, we were watching The Invasion of Eyomin, and Honker kinda freaked out a little. But I cleaned up the popcorn mess! Did I do that good a job that you don't even recognise the place? Keen gear! I always thought that was just a figure of speech."

Dark picked up a stray piece of popcorn, looking at it in fascination. "I appreciate the effort, Gosalyn." He fisted the fragment. "But what happened to the new furniture we put in two years ago? And you've shrunk ..."  
"I have not shrunk!" Dark crossed his arms, looking back at her sternly. "Okay, for the sake of argument then, exactly how much have I shrunk?"  
"Plenty. Why, you only look about ten years old."  
"Well, that's a surprise, dad ... Because I am ten years old!" Gosalyn suddenly hollered at him.

"Why aren't you on the streets, anyway?" She added curtly, crossing her arms.  
"Sweetie-pie." Dark's voice broke. "I thought you were dead."  
"Well, I'm not dead. You can see that, so there's no problem."

He turned away from her. "But I still don't understand what's going on, Gos. If you really are ten years old, and the cookies are all wrong too ..." He gazed up at the ceiling, as if asking some celestial deity. "Could I have gone back on my timeline? If that was the case I should still have been able to connect to Morgana. But it's like she's on a different frequency."

Gosalyn stared up at the ceiling too, tapping her beak. "Hmm. Maybe you're in the wrong universe altogether? In the movie 'Parallels' the protagonist was slipping from one universe into the next one and it just kept getting weirder. In the movie 'Cause and Effect' they got stuck in a time loop. Maybe you're stuck in a time loop into another universe?"

Dark stared at her in confusion.

"Hey, what? Stranger things have happened, dad. What about the time that alien mutant cabbages kidnapped Honker's parents and Bushroot ran away only to help us save the world again?"  
"Gos-."  
"Or, what about the time Negaduck went around disguised as you and Bellum shot you with a ..."  
"Yeah, I get it, Gos-"

* * *

"Or what about the time that Megavolt-?"  
"Enough already!" Her dad yanked on the edges of his hat. He steadied himself and pointed at her matter-of-factly. "This is quite obviously the sign of too much red cordial and not enough practical studies." He put his hands on his hips.  
"I'm just trying to keep the options open here, pops." She grumbled.

"So, if you're right, I'm in the wrong universe as well as in a time loop ...er ... thingy." He cocked an eyebrow. "Sheesh, like it's not confusing enough to be in a time loop." He started pacing the room. "So the crazed criminal has caught me up in a continuum conundrum. But I am not clueless!" He exclaimed. "That maniacal malevolent miscreant has made his last mistake, meddling with me!" He hesitated, looking at Gosalyn, "or ... any of me." He scratched his head.

"A different Darkwing Duck?" Gosalyn tapped her beak, considering this revelation. "That would explain why you're wearing black."

"That ... doesn't even remotely explain why I'm wearing black, kiddo." He laughed hollowly. "Let's see; causing a time loop and interfering in multiple universes ..." He went to the entrance room and opened the door. Gosalyn hurried after him. "Hello, Mrs. Muddlefoot."

Honker's mum was there, hand raised and about to knock. "Why, hello Mr. Darkwing Duck ..." She hesitated. "Er ... what are you doing at the Mallard's?"  
"I'm on a case. It's okay. It turned out to be a false lead." He strode out past her.  
Binkie turned her head, watching with Gosalyn as he left the porch.

"Gosalyn?" Once again, Gosalyn heard her father's voice, coming from inside the house. "Who was that?" Back in the lounge room just out of the view of the front door, Drake Mallard had just arrived through the trap door from under the blue couches.

* * *

Gosalyn turned her head to Drake. She gaped at him speechlessly as he walked towards her.

"Oh, Drake?" Binkie answered, watching him join them at the door. "That was Darkwing Duck."  
Gosalyn collected herself and rushed out past Binkie. "Wait! Darkwing Duck!" She called out. "Come back!"  
"Oh, don't worry, dear." Binkie cooed at Drake as he came into view. "He said it was a false lead. I know it's a bit late, but can I trouble you terribly for a cup of flour?"

"Sure, help yourself, it's in the kitchen." He replied in a distracted voice. "Excuse me ..." Drake pushed past her and followed after Gosalyn.

* * *

Gosalyn stopped at the end of the driveway. He'd just vanished but she hadn't seen any smoke cloud. She'd only looked away for a second, so where had he disappeared to?

"Gosalyn, who are you talking-?" She whirled around.  
"Oh." She was crestfallen. It was Drake Mallard, in his favourite day clothes: green and pale pink. She turned away from him, sighing. "He's gone."

Drake took her hand. "Come on, kiddo, time for bed."  
She snatched her hand away from him. "No, dad, we've got to find him. If he's lost, we need to help him."  
"Darkwing Duck?"  
"Yes. It was like, just another you, but wearing black."

"Well, I'll go out and look for him."  
She hugged him. "Thanks dad. You're the greatest."  
"I know. But you've got to hold up your end of the bargain and get to bed!" He snatched her arm before she could decide which way to run.  
"Alright already!" She harrumphed, pulling herself free. "I'm going." He followed her into the house.


	4. St Canard Prime Part 3

_A/N: _'Parallels' _and _'Cause and Effect' _are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals._

_A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is._

* * *

**St.**** Canard Prime: Part 3**

* * *

Part Three

"Well, I don't know, DW. It could have been Negaduck in disguise." Launchpad said as they drove down the streets of St Canard.

"Yes ... except Negaduck would've taken Gosalyn hostage or something worse, LP. What I saw was the tail end of a black cape as it disappeared out the doorway, and Gosalyn yelling out 'Darkwing Duck' for the whole neighbourhood to hear."

"Oh, you know Gos; she's probably just worried about you. Er him. Boy, this is getting confusing."

Darkwing reached the red light and stopped. "I have to agree with you on that one, LP. Not to mention; I have a strange feeling about this."  
"Oh, man, I hate it when you get those."  
"What?" Darkwing blinked at him. "Don't I usually end up being right?"  
"Exactly! W-why can't you get one about bunnies for a change?"  
Darkwing looked away, shaking his head. The light turned green and they continued on.

"I am the Terror that flaps in the night!"

Darkwing screeched the rat-catcher to a stop and jumped off.  
"Hey, that's your line, DW."  
"Shush!"

"I am the nightmare that you just can't wake up from."

The sound of running feet drew nearer, as the criminal ran directly towards Darkwing and Launchpad. He yelled when he recognised the caped vigilante. The beagle came skidding to a stop and stumbled onto his knees in front of him. "I am Darkwing Duck." Darkwing said, glaring down.

He put his hands together, begging Darkwing. "Okay, okay, I surrender! I confess, I'll tell them everything! I give in! Take me to jail, lock me up! Please, just don't hurt me!" He pleaded, his words ended in a pathetic whimper and sob.  
"Sure, we can do that." Launchpad cheerily came forwards, hooking a pair of handcuffs onto the distraught criminal. He pulled him away to a nearby street phone to call out a squad car.

* * *

Darkwing headed in the direction the criminal had come and found himself in a dark alley. "I've been looking for you."

"Why would you want to do that? On the last count, I wasn't a criminal."  
"You've upset ... someone I care about a great deal."  
"Oh. I didn't mean to do that. I was more troubled than she was, believe me."

Darkwing Duck was still trying to locate the owner of the voice. "Why don't you come out where I can see you so we can talk properly?"  
A dark form materialised from out of the shadows. "Is this better?" The duplicate stepped slowly towards him.  
"Yes, much better."  
"Perhaps we should talk somewhere that the walls don't have ears?"  
"Yeah, well, I suppose ..."  
"I'll meet you there." The duplicate disappeared into the shadows again.

"I never fully realised how effective that really is!" Darkwing Duck murmured appreciatively as he headed back to Launchpad and the rat-catcher.

"Something sure is different about this copy of yours, DW." Launchpad said, getting back into the sidecar.  
"Oh?" Darkwing raised an eyebrow at Launchpad as he reached for his helmet. "What makes you think that, LP?"  
"You know the guy we just pulled in? He was confessing about things that he did two years ago in Duck Vegas."

"Two years ago?" He put his grey fedora into the sidecar compartment. I wouldn't know what he did somewhere else."  
"It was Duck Vegas, two years ago."  
"Very peculiar. Well, let's go find out, LP."

* * *

The monochromatic Dark Duck looked out on the city lights from the window of Darkwing Tower. It was a beautiful pulse of life. None of it he shared. Disconnected from his family, he was just downright lost. He pushed his mind out as far as he could. Could he get a message back to his own wife? He could try.

After several minutes, he sank down onto the floor, weary for the emotional effort. It was too far. The connection was just static.  
"I'm so lonely!" He yelled. He looked at the cement floor. "And so empty."

"We'll do our best to find out who did this."

He started, looking up at the old, familiar Darkwing Duck. This was someone he literally hadn't seen in years.  
"Yeah, and we'll see about getting it put right." He gazed up at the two of them, tears in his eyes.  
"I could always count on you, Launchpad. Thanks. Both of you." He smiled, his eyes tearing again. "And Gosalyn."


	5. St Canard Prime Part 4

_A/N: _'Parallels' _and _'Cause and Effect' _are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals._

_A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is._

* * *

**St.**** Canard Prime: Part 4**

* * *

Part Four

All afternoon, Gosalyn had been cooking. She yanked on the oven mitts and opened the oven. A blast of heat confronted her, and she waited back for a moment, then she reached in and pulled out the meatloaf tray. She put it on the sink and pulled out the tray of baked vegetables. She flipped the oven door back up with her foot as she took off the mitts. She reached over the hotplates and turned off the oven.

"Gosalyn, won't your dad freak out when he learns you've been playing with the oven?"  
"Oh, Honker, I'm not playing, I've got two dads to look after now, I want to do something nice for them."  
"It looks a little burnt."  
"Only a little burnt." Gosalyn eyed the vegetables and the meat critically. "At least they're cooked."

"Well, that's one way of looking at it." Honker handed her a serving dish that he'd dutifully retrieved from the cupboard and a pair of tongs.  
She put all the vegetables in the dish, and then put a saucepan lid on top of it. "That'll keep it warm till they get here." She handed the dish to Honker and he put it on the table in the other room.  
"Uh, I think the gravy's gone a bit cold." He called out.  
"Well, that's easy to fix, we can just heat it up in the microwave. Bring it back in here."

Gosalyn took the gravy from Honker. "Thanks Honk." She put it in the microwave and set the timer. "When they get in, I'll just close the door ..." A second later she heard the sound of the trap door mechanism and her father's voice.  
"What do you mean 'it's not there'? You didn't have any equipment, it's not likely to be visible to the naked eye ..." Gosalyn slammed the microwave door closed and started it up. "Oh, and I can't believe you said that to Doctor Bellum, don't you have any self restraint, Drake?"  
"I save that for when I need it, DW."  
"Gosalyn, what are you ..." DW poked his head into the kitchen and a look of horror came over his face in a second.

"Uh, surprise, dad?" She smiled at him. "I cooked dinner for you guys. I know you've been really busy, and ..."  
"That's great, Gosalyn! We really appreciate that." The other, Drake, dressed in a spare set of day clothes said. "What's in the microwave?"  
"Gravy."  
"Well ... you've ... really have put in a lot of work ..." DW swallowed his horror in the wake of his duplicate's enthusiasm. "You didn't burn yourself did you?" DW stepped towards Gosalyn.  
"No, dad, I didn't." She shied away from him, taking up position in front of the bench where the meatloaf was sitting.

"Hello, Honker, I haven't seen you this short for a few years." DW's duplicate commented from behind him, making him turn around in distraction.

Gosalyn giggled behind him.  
"Uh, hi, Mr. Mallard ... and er ... Mr. Mallard. I think mum's calling me for dinner too."  
"I'll see you later, thanks, Honker!" Gosalyn called out.

DW turned back to Gosalyn, reaching for the knife in her hand. "Here, let me cut ..."  
Drake pulled DW backwards. "She can handle it. Right, Gos?"  
"Yeah but ..." DW spun around on Drake. "She-is-just-a-little-girl!" He clenched his beak.  
"Only to the unsuspecting." The duplicate turned away calmly. "In actual fact, this is Gosalyn Mallard; rightful heir to the guardian of St Canard." The microwave beeped.

There was the sound of the trap door mechanism again followed by Launchpad's voice. "Alright, something smells good!" The pilot called out from the other room.  
"It's Gosalyn's cooking!" Drake called back. "Of course it smells good, Launchpad." The duplicate moved out of the kitchen to join him in the dining area, and DW looked back at Gosalyn.  
"Could you get the gravy, dad?" She asked quietly, and DW melted.  
"I'm sorry, Gosalyn, I just ... want to protect you, I don't want anything to happen to you. You're my little angel." He eyed the meatloaf as she finishd cutting it up. "I hope you're being careful with those knives." She sighed, picked up the sliced loaf, and took it into the dining area.

* * *

Gosalyn looked from one Drake to the other, feeling very self-conscious about the food she'd spent all afternoon preparing. Despite having proclaimed that her cooking was good, the visiting Drake filled his plate with only vegetables.

"You've forgotten the meat."  
"I can't eat ..." He pulled a face. "I'm on a diet. I can't eat meat."  
"Well, how about some gravy for the vegetables, Drake?" Launchpad offered. Launchpad insisted on calling him 'Drake', to make sure he didn't get confused.  
"I just want vegetables. Thanks."  
Gosalyn lowered her eyes, staring disheartened at her plate. 'Bummer; obviously did something wrong.'

A sound of panic filled Drake's next words, "no, Gosalyn, it's not that at all. I just can't eat that stuff. You don't ... understand. It's not you. I really am on a ... diet."  
"A little bit won't hurt you, Drake." Launchpad picked up the gravy.

Drake yelped and dragged his plate away. "Don't come near me with that stuff!" He quacked desperately. "I'm serious; I can't eat it! I can't eat Hungry Hippo burgers, I can't eat at Cafe Le'Qua, I can't eat hot dogs, I can't drink soda pop, I can't stomach any of it! On the other hand I can drink Morgana's ghoulade, I can eat Morgana's spider cookies, and I can eat Gosalyn's vegetables." He speared a piece of carrot and said nothing more, just stared gloomily at the meatloaf. "I barely remember what it used to taste like." He added in a hushed voice. He glanced up at his duplicate and then scooped up some beans with his fork.

"That sure is a real strict diet you're on, Drake. Is it working?" Launchpad asked.  
"What's working, Launchpad?" Drake asked forlornly.  
"The diet." Launchpad scratched his head in confusion.  
"I ... suppose you could think of it that way ..." A small smile returned to Drake's beak. "That's what I like about you, LP; you always look at things positively."

* * *

DW tossed ideas around with his double as they continued eating their dinner.

"Quackerjack knows time circuits." Drake suggested. "Megavolt's an expert on universal equations. They could have joined up against us."

"I still think it'd be difficult for them to pull off." DW countered. "We're talking about an infinite number of timelines. What about Morgana? She's great with portals."  
"Morgana would never do something like this!" Drake was adamant.

"Yes, but in whose universe?" DW countered coolly. "Not yours or ours maybe. I know Negaduck knows a bit. They may have teamed up." DW offered the idea.  
"So you think Negaduck's probably in on it, DW?"  
"Not so likely, Launchpad." Drake countered. "You see," he explained, "technically Negaduck is also Drake Mallard, and if there's one life he values it's his own. This stunt, however, puts him in jeopardy too."  
"You're right." DW agreed. "Clearly we are talking about someone even more twisted and deranged than Negaduck."

Drake shook his head. "Beats me who that could be. Can you pass me the carrots, Gos? Thanks."  
"Yeah ..." DW grumbled, continuing to wrack his brains. "It's probably staring us right in the face."  
Gosalyn stared at them, "if you wanna talk about alternate universes, what about Darkwarrior Duck?"

"Gosalyn, that's ridiculous-!" DW rejected automatically.  
"Why, yes, of course!" DW's counterpart interrupted him yet again. "Let's see: ingenious, unhinged, obsessive compulsive to an ex-ter-eme, un-inhibited, blink-er sighted, grimly de-termined ... Yep; that checks off all the boxes." Drake grinned at Gosalyn. "Good job at profiling, sweetie. You got him on your first go!"

"Gee, thanks, dad." She grinned back at him.

Thwarted once again by his alternate version, DW steamed in silence, narrowing his eyes. He continued eating, glancing suspiciously at Drake, determined to piece together the mystery at his dining room table.

* * *

"So you're allergic." DW said in conclusion of his visitor's diet issue as they finished dinner. "How did that happen?"

"Steelbeak was experimenting with a dangerous poison." Gosalyn's extra dad said plainly, putting his fork down on his empty plate. "I got hit, I went down. Since then, I have the grim satisfaction of scaring the living daylights out of him. Every time he sees me, he just bolts. And there isn't a cure. I've looked. Even Bushroot has had a good look for it. At one point, he thought Lycium Nycanthropus might be in the answer somewhere, but-"

"Of course, I'm so stupid!" Gosalyn slapped her forehead and stood up, pointing at him. "I should've figured! You're a vampire."  
"Young lady, I'll thank you to remember that I'm not just any vampire; I am Darkwing Duck." All the empty dishes rose up several inches from the table, and whizzed into the kitchen on their own.  
"Keen gear!" Gosalyn turned back to gape at him.  
"Yeah." He chuckled. "You'd be surprised at how many sets of plates I broke getting that skill working properly." The dishes landed with a chink in the kitchen. "That one was a lot of hard work."

"You practiced on the crockery!" DW squawked at him. "What were you thinking?"  
Drake, the vampire, shrugged. "I guess I was caught in the wake of Gosalyn's enthusiasm. I wasn't thinking much. We were just having fun, and I was learning."  
DW hid his face, mortified.  
"You should practice calming down more often, Drake." The vampire looked at him. "You'll go grey before your time." He left the table and ventured towards the kitchen, "I'll wash up."  
DW pounced on him in a fit of nerves. "Oh, no you don't. I want ... my ... dining set to remain in one piece, thank you. I will wash up."

"You see what I just did there, Gos?" DW turned around to his duplicate, talking to Gosalyn still at the table. "Without saying one word of mistruth, I can even manipulate my own sensibilities. Don't underestimate the mental game your enemy is capable of. Don't ever let the bad guy start talking. He could weaken your resolve, break through your defences, exactly like I did right now. They could ... catch you on an unrelated topic, sideline your thinking, defocus your mind, and the next thing you know, they've trounced you. I'm Darkwing Duck, the master of psychological manipulation. You see it now, you'll see it again. Don't ever listen to the bad guy."

DW harrumphed from the doorway. "If you'd be so kind, this is my daughter. I'm her father, and her teacher."

The vampire copy's face fell. "You're right. And I know that after cooking all afternoon, she won't have done her homework yet. I'll patrol, you can stay in with Gosalyn." He went to the door, and opened it, almost instantly disappearing.  
DW bolted across the room and slammed the door shut.  
"Ow!" The vampire copy reappeared beside DW. Then he laughed. "You win."  
"You're staying right here where I can keep an eye on you." DW's eyes widened. "Your clothes have changed!"

"Oh, bother." The visitor was dressed in his monochromatic version of the Darkwing Duck costume again. "Sorry about your clothes." He grumbled. "I just need some fresh air."  
DW clenched his fists. "Not-under-my-watch!"  
"I'll-go-mad-under-your-watch!" Dark Duck objected back, equally as loud.

"This is the only thing I'm good for." He added in a quieter voice, 'besides, I delivered Tom Weedley the Diamond Suite killer to you for the Vegas police. I put Yale in jail for the Wicker's incident. Surely you can extend a little bit of faith. DW, I need to get out there. I need to do my job. The Quiverwing Quack is out there in some far away universe, doing the exact same thing, and, well, that's all I have to go on." The door opened by itself, he turned into a bat and dove out the entranceway.  
Try as he might, DW could not move the door. "How'd he do that? It's ..." DW struggled with the door, then it shut on its own, making him stumble. "Stuck."

He turned, collecting himself. "Upstairs, Gos. It's homework time."  
"No fair, you promised you'd ..."  
"I'll join you once I've done the dishes. Go on."  
"... Okay, dad." Reluctantly, she went up the stairs.

DW went into the kitchen. He picked up the top plate from the stack. He looked at it in confusion. He looked at the next plate and then shuffled the whole pile together. The cooking tools, the gravy dish; everything was clean again.  
"They're clean already. How'd he do that without water? It's like we haven't even used them."  
Launchpad stood in the doorway. "Well, so, I guess the dishes are done."

"Do you want me to try to follow him, DW? He was eating vegetables. And after all, he is you."  
DW struggled with the question for a long moment. "Maybe ... Hey, I know, you can use the surveillance cameras! He seems to like disappearing everywhere a great deal, so it'll be the best way to track him."  
"Sure DW, but I don't know how to use that stuff." DW cocked an eyebrow at him.  
"It's really easy, LP." He ushered his sidekick towards the blue couch with a fleeting amount of instructions, finishing with: "You know where I am."  
"Sure." Launchpad nodded and disappeared through the trap door with a press of the mouse's head.

DW paused at the base of the stairs, looking up. "I know I can't protect you forever. Maybe I should start training you properly. The Quiverwing Quack." He smiled. She really had picked a good name for herself. "Math first, though." He marched up the stairs.


	6. St Canard Prime Part 5

_A/N: _'Parallels' _and _'Cause and Effect' _are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals._

_A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is._

* * *

**St.**** Canard Prime: Part 5**

* * *

Part Five

It was morning as Drake slouched in his chair at the kitchen table. The unopened cookie jar sat on the table in front of him and he gazed at it with his head on his crossed arms. Gosalyn came and went. His resident copy was still asleep from their efforts last night: patrolling and looking for some answer as to what had dragged him across from one universe to the next.

Launchpad eventually came in, yawning himself awake. "Can't sleep, Drake? Maybe try some warm milk."  
"I can't drink milk." Drake sat up. "I can't sleep, LP, because there's a demonic fiend loose out there and I'm disconnected from my family." He rubbed his temples.  
"I'm sure your Gosalyn will keep an eye out for them."

Launchpad grabbed a cup of coffee from the percolator machine and stood there for a moment, gazing through the window to the sunny world outside. "It sure is a good thing that light doesn't affect you, Drake."  
Drake raised an eyebrow at him and decided to dismiss the comment. "The Midnight Mallard, trounced by an unseen attacker. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."  
"It could be worse."

Drake looked up at Launchpad incredulously. "I'm mystified by your reasoning, LP. In actual fact it could be worse! For all I know, they are all dead. For all I know, the multiverse is collapsing in on itself as we speak! I wish you guys'd let me talk to Megavolt and Quackerjack. At least Megavolt. He's the single best person I can think of to ask about all this."  
"Y'gotta remember they are criminals."  
"I am aware of that. But I'm sure I can reason with them to help us."  
"Well, you could try talking around DW again. Hey, maybe if you tell him how you were planning on reasoning with them?"

"Speaking of whom."  
Launchpad turned around, footsteps sounded down the stairs.  
"Good morning, guys." DW reached into the fridge and pulled out the milk. "Where's Gosalyn?"

"Over at Honker's playing Whiffleboy." Drake from the table replied. "She took her baseball bat, so she may have a match on later with the neighbourhood kids."  
DW frowned at him, "what else would she be doing with a baseball bat?"  
Drake shrugged, "she could be practising her counter zombie moves."

There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it." Launchpad disappeared out of the kitchen.  
"And that's Fenton Crackshell." Drake flinched as he said the name.  
"Oh, no." DW agreed.  
"Fenton's not so bad." Drake covered his face with his hands. "It's Gizmoduck that really gets to me."  
"What-?"  
"Go on, you're the home owner."

* * *

DW gave him a dirty look and headed dutifully out into the lounge room area. "Hi, Fenton. How's it ..."  
"Drake, buddy! So good to see you." Fenton oozed with enthusiasm and bull headedness.  
Drake was feeling it spilling out all the way into the kitchen. Drake's nerves twinged. "Oh, no. Not the TV!" He stood up as he heard Fenton and the other two go into the lounge room.  
"Oh, hey it's time for the news."

He spun around on the spot, closing his eyes. He checked his clothes. It was day, and with a little presence of mind, he was now dressed in his old purple colour scheme, a perfect match for this universe's Darkwing Duck. He raced out into the lounge room and flicked the TV off right in front of the others. "I think those things are on far too much." He crossed his arms, "when was the last time you went out for some fresh air?"  
"But ..." Fenton looked at the TV forlornly. Then his mind clicked over, "Darkwing Duck, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I never realised my reputation had made its way to Duckberg!" Dark bowed. "I try to keep a low profile. 'A watched pot never boils', you know how it goes. Drake Mallard and I go way back. Best friends, right, Drake?" Fenton looked at Drake, who was nodding in a somewhat glazed expression.

"Actually, Fenton ... buddy." Dark Duck grasped Fenton's arm, pulling him gently away from the others. "Launchpad has been telling me how good an accountant you are. He said you were the person to see about my books. And, would you look at that, it's such a lovely day outside! Why don't we take a walk and we can talk about it." He dropped his grip on Fenton and walked to the entranceway. "I mean, that is if you're interested in helping a friend in need out."

"Oh, well of course!" Fenton gushed and followed, eager to perform another act of community service, whatever it was. "I'll see you guys later."  
"Uh, sure, Fenton ..." The door closed behind them. "Having more than one of me certainly does have its advantages, LP."

"He sure changes clothes very fast." Launchpad tapped his beak in thought. "Boy, Drake's in for an ear-bender! Fenton loves talking about accounting. He can do it for hours non-stop."

"He's obviously buying me some time." DW recalled what they'd glimpsed of the news report. "Hmm. That robbery of the defence research facility had Negaduck all over it. But there's only one way to be sure. Come on, LP."

* * *

Dark Duck used delta waves to ad-lib in his conversation with Fenton. This allowed him to ask the right questions and to appear at least semi-intelligent on the subjects of accounting and business. They talked for ages as they went along.

"Oh, that's a nice looking greenhouse." Fenton announced, looking up. 'A little pot-plant would do wonders for my office.'  
Dark Duck looked up at Bushroot's greenhouse too. "Yeah, the owner takes great care and pride in maintaining the plants in his care." Bushroot wasn't very motivated in selling his friends, and Dark thought it best to mention this. "It's not so much of a shop as more of a research-"

"Shall we go and have a look then?" With renewed energy, Fenton hurried up the pathway to the greenhouse.  
Dark shrugged and followed after him, just happy that Fenton was happy. For the moment, Gizmoduck was not out there stepping on capes in the crime fighting business.

* * *

They stepped through the unlocked door and Dark Duck started pointing out the different species as they passed. Bushroot's greenhouse was a blessing to him. After talking so long about accounting, Dark needed a break. Or else he might break something.

"I didn't know you were such an expert in plants, Darkwing."  
"I love nature." Dark deftly replied. "You don't get so much variety in the city, though." He moved through the greenhouse slowly. "Plants are fascinating. If you cut them down they simply defy you and grow back up." He turned around. "Bt by far the single most amazing thing with plants is their virility. If ducks multiplied as easily as plants germinate from seedlings, why, then we'd have a very large problem. So I always say thank goodness they're plants and not ducks."

"Well ... except for weeds. But that sounds a little anti-person for a crime fighter."  
"Not at all, it just gives a good contrast. You can trust plants. Even a devious plant will do only as they need to do. Ducks are harder."  
"Well, maybe, except for that Bushroot character ... I ... heard about."

Dark shrugged. "You can't blame him for being part duck. Not anymore than you can blame anyone else for being full duck. Attacking based on ordinary faults leads to a certain kind of insanity within you." Dark smiled at Fenton, tapping his temple for emphasis.

"Think positively, my friend. Nobody's perfect, and if they were, that would make life dull indeed."  
"That sounds like you might be giving up the superhero business."  
Dark Duck laughed. "I'll always flap, Fenton. I'd like to think of myself as a solid case for discouragement."  
"Why do you...? I mean, a lot of people wonder. They're not sure whether you're good or evil."  
"I fight crime." Dark turned away from him. "And I hold myself accountable for everything I do."  
"Do you think it's enough?"  
"Of course not."  
Fenton blinked, that wasn't the expected answer.

"That's why I need Launchpad around. It's the people in my life that keep me from ..."  
He turned away suddenly. "Negaduck?" He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, boy, do I love Negaduck."

"They keep you from Negaduck?"  
"I ... no, he's ..." Dark looked at him.  
"I'd better go."  
"No, wait!"  
Fenton dashed out of the greenhouse.

"Curses! D'oh, and Negaduck's gonna kill Gizmoduck. Real smooth, Darkwing. Me and my big beak! What a waste of time, stupid accountant, can't stand still for five minutes ... D'oh, this is my fault. I can't even enjoy one criminal in peace without other people- now never mind; just fix it." He strode towards the door.  
"Darkwing Duck?"  
"Oh, hi Bushy!" He replied much more cheerfully than when he'd been berating himself. "How are you?"  
"Well um ... I uh... Why do you ask?"  
"Oh, you know, friends and acquaintances. You're not doing anything criminal at the moment, are you?"  
"On-on my last check I wasn't."  
"There, you see." He smiled at Bushroot. "I'll see you later, Bushy." He stepped out the door.

* * *

Darkwing threw in the smoke cartridge amidst the sound of an electrical surge.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night!"

"Oops, power outage!" Negaduck laughed as Gizmoduck fell noisily into a bulky heap at Darkwing's feet.  
"Gizmoduck? What are you ..." Darkwing reviewed the robotically enabled crime fighter. 'Fenton Crackshell.' "This is my city, why are you here?"  
"It's a long story, Wingy. You don't happen to have a remote power generator on you, by any chance? I'm a little ... inanimate."

"If you two would be so kind as to pay attention?" Negaduck said, standing before them with his remote control of doom. "See, I've refitted this whole room with all the works. And I've got a few things I want to destroy with it ... starting with you!" He cackled and Darkwing dropped to the ground as the villain pressed the button. Darkwing felt the rush of air as the wrecking ball passed narrowly over his head. There was a metal clunk, and he looked up on Gizmoduck's cry, in time to watch him disappear out of the window.

"No!" Darkwing squawked and raced over, his grapple in his hand, but he was too late. Gizmoduck was gone.

"Aw, feel a bit bad, killing off another crime fighter?" Negaduck laughed. "Pity you don't have any super duck powers. You might've even saved him."

Darkwing turned to Negaduck. "You killed Gizmoduck." Darkwing pointed his gas gun at Negaduck. "But you can't kill me as easily, Negaduck."  
"Why, Darkwing!" Negaduck continued in his mocking voice. "No super powers, you don't even have a super suit. You don't wear Kevlar ..." He grinned. "You're nothing." He brandished his remote control. "And you're about to become ... nothing!" He laughed.

* * *

"I am an idea, Negaduck." The room echoed.  
Negaduck frowned, "alright: how'd you do that?"

The room laughed at him. "Oh, Ducky, I thought you knew better than that! I am the terror that flaps in the night." The room laughed again. "I am the very last screw that seals your coffin."  
"That's not you." He frowned at Darkwing. "It's a hoax."  
"Give it up, Ducky." The room echoed. "You haven't a chance."

"Who are you?"  
"I?" The voice laughed again. "I am the vampire that haunts your nightmares."  
"No ... way." Negaduck gulped. "This ain't that universe. I got thrown outta that universe two days ago."

Negaduck spun around again; the image of Darkwing at the window was gone. "Tell me where you are and I'll blast you."  
The voice laughed again. "That'll certainly bring the house down over your head." Negaduck paused and slowly, he looked up.

He stumbled and tripped. "It can't be. This is a different universe!"  
"Oh no?" Dark jumped down from the ceiling, landing lightly on the floor in front of him. "I'll have to do a bit better to convince you, then." He laughed again. "My pleasure!"

"What ... uh, what do you want from me?"  
"A fool's question! You know better than that, Ducky."  
"Don't...! Stop calling me that!" Negaduck stumbled away, the monochromatic do-gooder laughed and advanced.

Negaduck had a moment of clarity. He jabbed at several buttons on his remote, letting off a stream of fireworks in the room and sharp blades, wooden stakes flew all around him from his square of safety. He took a breath. As the smoke cleared, Dark Duck was standing there in front of him. Negaduck grabbed his gun from his side.  
"Ah, a series four destabilising ray gun. Not many of those around."  
"Where's your weapon? What have you got?"  
"Tsk, Negaducky, I am Darkwing Duck, and I am a weapon."

Negaduck turned his head to where the other Darkwing had been standing. How long had he not been there? He looked back. "There was more than one of you. You must'a followed him here."  
"I like to give these sorts of impressions; I'm flattered."  
"What do you want?"  
Dark licked his beak, "I want you to ... run!" He snarled and pounced.

Negaduck's heart jolted and he bolted from the room.

* * *

Fenton woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house. It took him a moment to remember what the last few moments in his memory were.

Gizmoduck had crashed out of a high-rise window, without any power to his propellers. How had he gotten out of his suit?

"Oh, you're awake." Drake Mallard commented from nearby. "That's a piece of good news."

Fenton closed his eyes. What had happened? He took a sharp breath in. He recalled a rush of fur. With leathery wings and a massive size, bigger than he was in the suit, a creature had swooped out of nowhere. Its long sharp fingers had grabbed onto his robotic arms and snatched him out of his fall.

He felt himself shaking.

"You're lucky to be alive, Fenton. Darkwing Duck said it was a miracle you weren't dead."

"Something ... caught me. I don't ..." A vision of the creature's set of sharp teeth flashed through his memory. He gripped the sheet, looking around at the room, making sure this was reality.  
"What did you see?" Drake handed him a glass of water.

* * *

DW came downstairs, looking around.

"Now where ..." He went into the kitchen. He watched the packets of oranges, and other fruit and vegetables land on the table. "You might've bought the store instead, Dark."  
"Would you relax? I've got an inter-dimensional trust account. And this is Gizmoduck we're dealing with here. Cut me some slack."

"Hungry." DW watched his black copy grab an orange, wash it in the sink and bite straight into the peel. "What did you do to Negaduck?"  
Dark laughed. "Mmm, I love Negaduck." He finished the orange.

"What the heck did you do to Negaduck?" DW squawked.  
"I just scared him a bit, that's all."  
"Where is Negaduck?"  
"In lockup of course! You're very tense."

"Well, I wonder why that is? Maybe it's because you have Fenton believing there's a gargoyle loose in St Canard!"

Dark frowned. "I couldn't avoid that. I couldn't prevent Negaduck from pushing him out the window."  
"You knew that was going to happen?"  
"I'm sorry. I did try to keep Fenton entertained."

"How did you know his secret identity?"  
"This is a tomato. Put it in the blender, what have you got? A tomato; it just looks different."

DW stared at him as he devoured the tomato. "You mean you can hear heartbeats."  
"Yes."  
"That means you drink blood."  
"I have the capacity to drink blood, yes. It's the definition of vampire. I do avoid actually doing it."

"Oh, well that's all-what!" DW blinked. "... Avoid? Avoid! You shouldn't do it at all! Just straight not do it!"

"Let me give you some advice, DW." Dark fixed on him. "You know how you feel right now? If I were the duck, you the vampire, I'd be dead. It's not the vampire that's the killer. It's the temper in the vampire. Your temper, Drake Mallard. You've got to cool off."

He smiled. "And if you took a moment to notice, Gizmoduck is no worse for wear and that's no mean feat on my part." He started rifling through the paper packages. "Negaduck must have come with me from out of my universe. Now which bag did Sarah stash the broccoli?"  
DW spied it in a bag on the other end of the table and handed it to Dark. "I want my kitchen back. I want my bedroom back." He clenched his beak. "And I especially want my universe back the way it was."

"I'd love to oblige." Dark looked up at him. "So we'll go visit Megavolt tonight, huh?" He grinned. "Don't worry, I can be persuasive."  
DW sighed. "Just tell me you didn't bite Negaduck."  
"I haven't bitten anyone since I got here." Dark crunched into the raw vegetable.  
"Yuck! You're supposed to cook that first."  
Dark shrugged and took another bite.


	7. Quiverwing Duck Part 1

**Quiverwing Duck: Part 1**

* * *

Part One

Quiverwing Duck, dressed in his blue, purple and lush green costume, woke up on a lab table. "What the?"

A young woman's voice sounded nearby. "Well, at least we've got one of them." She said with a quaver in her voice. Her voice was almost familiar.  
"We've also doubled the problem!" A very familiar doomed sounding voice said. So familiar, in fact, it had to be Megavolt. "The only thing positive that I can see in this experiment is that we now have a strong indicator that the phenomenon is localised."  
"To what, E?"  
"To Darkwing Duck."

Quiver sat up, and saw Megavolt arguing with a teenager in a purple mask and matching outfit. She had purple gloves and a fuzzy teal skivvy under her purple jacket. The cape she wore was of a nearly-black purple and if the bow and arrow set slung over her shoulder didn't give away her identity, the pointed Robin Hood hat certainly did.

When The Quiverwing Quack had died he had become Quiverwing Duck in memory of her, but now here she stood as a teenager! "Can you two please explain to me what's happened here?"  
"Eh?" Megavolt cocked a goggled eye at Quiver in a quizzical expression. " 'What' is easy, the problem is why, and how do we fix it."  
"The Quiverwing Quack?" Quiver considered the young woman, and she smiled brightly at him.  
"Gosh, it feels like I haven't seen you in ages." She replied.

"Oh, how wonderful." Megavolt gestured sarcastically, clasping his hands together. "A family reunion. Shall I make a pot of tea and bring out some biscuits to celebrate?"  
"That would be great, thanks." Quiverwing replied.  
Megavolt looked at her in disbelief. "I was being sarcastic, Q."  
"That's funny, because I wasn't."  
Megavolt blinked at Quiverwing, then turned away, grumbling about errant teenagers wasting electricity and stormed out of the room. The instant he left, Quiverwing grabbed Quiver in a fierce hug. He couldn't utter a single word and simply returned the affection he hadn't felt in so many years, however intense that it was.

She stepped back, getting her composure back.  
"Gosalyn? What's going on here?"  
"It's a continuum tangle. Well, that's how Megavolt explains it to me. Someone's gone and tied a whole bunch of timelines together into one great big knot."

"Where's Launchpad?" He asked, looking about the room.  
"Dad ..." Quiverwing said with a troubled look on her face.  
"Has something happened to Launchpad in this universe?" He gulped.  
"No, no, dad, he's alright! He's out there playing Darkwing Decoy. Dad, you went missing last night. Of course he has to be out there."  
"Phew, I was worried." He took a steadying breath.

"So where exactly are we?" Quiver glanced out the window at the roof of the brick building opposite them. It was clearly an old apartment or office block.  
"Xo Tech. When dad went missing, we did a bit of research, and decided that Megavolt was the best person to go see. So here we are."

"Dad?" He repeated softly. "I thought I was your father?"  
Quiverwing shrugged, uncomfortable. "Sure, emotionally. But technically you're some other Gosalyn's father."  
"Technically I'm not." Quiver countered weakly, tears in his eyes. "In my universe, you're dead."  
That caused her to grab him into another fierce hug. "Well, I'm very glad you didn't turn evil this time around."

"How could I?" He sobbed, rubbing his hand against her back. "I have you in my heart to guide me."

* * *

Quiver considered the timeline knot case as Megavolt came back in the room with a loaded tray. "Who'd want to do this?" He asked the two of them.

Megavolt put down the tray of tea and biscuits. "Well, it's localised to you," he answered, "so I can only imagine it's someone who really hates you."  
"Who hates Darkwing Duck that much?" Quiverwing tapped her beak in thought. "Or how about ..." her eyes widened. "Oh, no."  
"Who?" Megavolt repeated the question, seeing as Quiverwing had the answer.  
"Darkwarrior Duck." She wrung her gloved hands and began to pace the room. "It's gotta be."  
"Oh, sure, like pacing really helps, Q." Megavolt pointed her behaviour out.  
She sighed and visited Megavolt's tea tray. "You're right, E." She helped herself to the offerings. "Thanks."

"I think I remember you mention this person once. You went on a trip into the future." Quiver looked sternly at Megavolt, being the partial cause for this dangerous adventure. But knowing how dangerous life was didn't change the outcome, and Quiver knew there was no point in laying blame. Not on Megavolt, and not on himself. He let his shoulders drop.

"Well, that's good!" Megavolt announced, askew somewhat from the emotional turmoil. "Now we know who, all we need now is a solution to the tangle, and I'm already thinking on that."  
"No, Megavolt!" Quiverwing stopped him. "What we need is _our _Darkwing Duck first to solve Darkwarrior, or we'll be the ones that get 'solved'!"  
"Oh, yeah, and D's been lost in the tangle."

Quiverwing handed a cup of tea to Quiver as he stood there staring at Megavolt, his arch nemesis and long lost school friend. 'He called me ... D? He hasn't called me D since primary school.' He took a sip. Back then, D had stood for Drake. When Launchpad had first started calling him 'DW', he'd found the unscary connection frightening. And a term of endearment, like having his primary school friend back again. Since when had Megavolt called him 'D' almost like the way Elmo had all the way back then? Or like how Launchpad called him 'DW'? How strange this all was. 'A different universe.' He concluded.

Then something more useful occurred to his disorderly mind. "Don't different universes operate on different frequencies?"  
Megavolt considered this for a moment. "Sure they do, but it'll take days to build a transceiver capable of detecting bio-resonances at the required magnitude."  
"Well ... what about electronic resonances?" Quiverwing held up a small black box.  
"A tracking receiver?" Megavolt's eyes lit up greedily. He snatched it from Quiverwing's hand. "Oo. It's a few years old but very up-market." He dangled it by its wrist-band in front of him, as if showcasing it. "And I thought your dad was the stingy sort, Q."  
Quiver snorted at that comment. Then he heard a sound outside. A burglar?  
"Not when it matters." Quiverwing shrugged in distraction and turned away from Megavolt. She bounded towards the window, beating Quiver with sheer enthusiasm and youthful exuberance.

"Oi, where are you going, Q?" Megavolt said. "You can't do anything yet; I've still got to ..."  
"Calm down, E. It's just a burglar. Like I'm going to do anything stupid." Quiverwing pulled her bow and an arrow out from under her cape.

"I am the Quack in the Dark! Boy, are you outta luck tonight. I am The Quiverwing Quack!"

Quiverwing let the arrow fly from her position on the fire escape.

Quiver climbed out the window and looked down over the fire escape, watching Quiverwing gymnastically take care of the criminal. Quiverwing disappeared down the main street with her charge.  
Behind him in the room, Megavolt was talking to the device. "Don't worry old girl, I'm just going to upgrade you, it won't hurt a bit."

Quiverwing came back into view and walked back to the fire escape. Instead of using the stairs, she just climbed the outside of it.  
"Good work." He was proud of her.  
"Thanks, dad." She smiled at him and climbed back into the room.

* * *

Quiverwing glanced up at the clock and a look of sheer panic fell on her face. "Oh-mi-gosh, I'm late!" She looked down at her costume. "I don't have time to stand in front of the wardrobe for twenty minutes. At least I'm presentable this time. Last time I was covered in raspberry jam." She ran to the corner of the room, pulling out a skateboard. "I'll be back later, E. I'll be down on Acorn Avenue if you need me. Thanks again for all this." She climbed back out the window.

"We do have an elevator, you know?" Megavolt called to her.  
"I don't have time for elevators, E."  
"You never do." Megavolt muttered to himself as he settled back to work on the transponder.  
Quiver looked to the window: 'late for what? Why didn't she ask me for help? She's on a skateboard so the time it takes me to reach her will be ...' Quiver stepped towards the window in his thoughts.

"No, don't!"  
He wasn't even looking at Megavolt when a bolt of electricity hit him. He coughed and crashed painfully to the floor. Megavolt came and stood over him as he picked himself up. "Ouch."  
"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Megavolt moved closer to help him up and Quiver grizzled and pushed him away.

"See, that's just the kind of thing that made Darkwarrior Duck happen." Megavolt crossed his arms and walked off. "I said I was sorry."  
Quiver hesitated for a long moment, taking this into thought. "Yeah, okay, Megavolt." Quiver grumbled. "I'm sorry too. Thing is, you're a criminal in my universe."  
"I gave that up in this one."  
"So why'd you stop me? She could be in trouble."  
"Trouble? That's a bit too philosophical for me at the moment. I'm trying to figure out how to undo a multiversal filament splice."

"And I've got to help Quiverwing."  
"For the last time, she doesn't ..." Megavolt shook his head as Quiver stepped out of the window. "Wonderful inventions, elevators." He looked back down at the tracking receiver bits. "Isn't that right, granny?"

* * *

_To be continued ..._

* * *

_A/N: I disclaim the Quiverwing Duck character to Ian Brill and associates, Celey and Gryphinwyrm7._

_A/N: The words of "Weird Al" Yankovic are __deeply profound__. I come to believe that a character is just like a tune. You take a pre-existing character (or song) and use the same tune to sing a new verse._

_As in the case of Quiverwing Duck, if you want to change the tune from the original, you have to earn it by putting in another verse in order for this change to be legitimate. (Or else just write OOC (out of character) in your author's note and get on with telling everyone your alternate story!) Either way, if you change him enough you can play multiversal pinball with him later against the original Darkwing Duck._

_A/N: Now, moving on to the subject to the disturbing emotional theme of QD, I misquote from the movie The Titanic:_

And so, the fiddlers play on as the ship and its trapped occupants go down into the freezing waters of death. The ghostly haunting moan of Celine Dion replaces their last dying strains and fills the air. "My heart will go oh-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-on."

_It's hard to write with tears in your eyes, so I have discovered. Sarcasm is the last resort._

_A/N: My subspace travel theorem is not a new concept although I have obviously adapted it a little. I give reference to the following two episodes of the following two TV shows from Gene Roddenberry:_

_Star Trek: The Next Generation "_The High Ground_". I misquote Doctor Crusher: "Thinking of getting out using their way, captain? I wouldn't recommend it. It's killing them." and_

_Star Trek: The Original Series "_The Gamesters of Triskelion_" I misquote Lt. Commander Spock: "I'm looking for the captain, doctor, not pursuing some wild aquatic fowl."_

_These quotes on the theory of subspace travel are kind of funny in this context, since right now they are exactly what I AM in fact doing!_


	8. Quiverwing Duck Part 2

**Quiverwing Duck: Part 2**

* * *

Part Two

Quiverwing Duck tore down the street, but ducked into an alley as he saw two suspicious figures standing in front of a jewellery store. He slowly sidled along in the shadow of the awnings. They hadn't seen him. He still had the element of surprise.

"What'd'ya mean you've changed yah mind?" The lanky one eyed the other.  
"D-Darkwing Duck's out here somewhere. He'll ..."  
"There's no such thing, Grams. They're just hokey stories. Even the press don't buy him anymore." Lanky poked at Grams with his crowbar then waved a gun with his other hand. "Now, we set this up, and if the legendary Darkwing Duck does show up, I got this."

"That ain't gonna stop him, Earl. Yeh heard the stories too." Grams gulped. "He dares people to shoot at him. And haven't you heard, if he really doesn't like you, he can make yeh disappear."  
"Get a grip, Grams. This guy ... he don't exist."  
"Like I said, Earl. I'm outta here." From his shadowy position Quiver watched Grams run past him, white faced.

Quiver turned back to the lanky Earl. 'They want "Darkwing"? I'll give them "Darkwing".' He pulled out his bow and let fly a gas arrow. "Looking for a crime-fighter in a cape and mask?" He queried. "I'm only too happy to oblige."

Earl jumped, screaming and collapsed onto the ground. So much for the tough guy routine, Quiver noted.

"I-I'm sorry." Earl shook as he pulled desperately at his burglar clothes. He dumped his burglary equipment on the ground, including the gun and the crowbar. "I won't ever do this again!" He sobbed.

"See that you don't. Or you know I'll be there to stop you."

"Thank you!" Earl staggered to a stand, tore his eyes off Quiverwing Duck and ran as fast as he could, leaving his tools and his life of crime hopefully far behind him.

"Now, that was a bit disappointing." Quiver muttered to himself as he looked down at the pile of criminal tools. "I thought I was going to collar someone at least." He watched the headlamps of a car come bearing down on him. He stepped aside as someone got out.

"Oh, Darkwing Duck? I figured it'd be you. Nice outfit. Really picks out the colour of your eyes." The police officer smiled at him, and then pulled out a large plastic bag, picking up the equipment. "Don't want these even lying around in a trash can; I'll get them back to headquarters."  
Well, at least he didn't terrify the cop, although the opposite wasn't quite true. "Sure."  
"Goodnight, Darkwing Duck."

"Uh, goodnight to you too, officer." Quiver stepped away, and began running again for Acorn Avenue. He hoped Gosalyn was all right.

* * *

A couple streets later Quiver turned onto Acorn Avenue and crashed headlong into Reginald Bushroot running in the opposite direction.

Bushroot looked up from the ground. He recognised Quiver and then his eyes refocused into the distance.

"Tarnia, Daddy's ..." He got himself back to a stand, and raised a leafy hand to his mouth to increase the volume of his pitch ... "Daddy's leaving now, Tarnia! Daddy's going home." With some difficulty, the plant-duck managed to get himself facing the opposite direction.

Quiver stood up and turned to look. He saw a minute figure at the other end of the block, immobilised by Bushroot's words. Bushroot put a firm step down. One more step did the trick.

Bushroot's small child came racing back. "Daddy, daddy, please don'd leaf me, I'm here, I'm here. Daddy!"

Bushroot turned to the child who was so tiny she could barely be anything more than a year old. Quiver wasn't too sure on what made up this child. She was somewhat green but yet duck-like too. And how the heck did she move so fast for being so small?

"Oh, Tarnia. Why don't you want to be good like your older siblings?"  
"I don'd wanna ead thad sduff. Id's yucky, daddy."  
"You don't like Aunty Fog's new mixture, is that all that this is about? Why didn't you tell me, baby?" He scooped her up. "It's probably just a bit spicy for you. After all, you're a lot younger than the others."

Bushroot turned to Quiver who had been standing watching the exchange in fascination. "Hi, Darkwing. This is Tarnia. You haven't met Darkwing Duck before, Tarnia?" Bushroot stepped closer to Quiver and the light from the lamppost overhead lit up the plantling's green tinged face. She had purple petals for hair and was so tiny that she seemed engulfed in Bushroot's arms.

"Hi, kiddo." Quiver's insides were feeling very warm as he gazed at the most precious expression on the child's face.

"You know, Darkwing Duck always takes care of us, Tarnia. He's always there to help."  
"Hi, Darkwing Duck." The child said with a little more courage. "Please teh meed you."  
Bushroot beamed, hugging his daughter with proud affection. "We'd better go now; I've got to find Tarnia a new formula. See you later, Darkwing."

"Bye, Tarnia." Quiver waved warmly at Tarnia.  
"Bye, Darkwing Duck!"

* * *

_To be continued ..._


	9. Quiverwing Duck Part 3

_A/N: All chapters are now split up into their constituent parts._

* * *

**Quiverwing Duck: Part 3**

* * *

Part Three

Quiver looked around. Now he was on Acorn Avenue, where along it did he need to be? His daughter hadn't specified that. Megavolt had understood, but then again, who really knew with so many connections gone awry?

Quiver walked slower, looking and looking. A restaurant cast out light onto the street. He looked in the wide windows. "Gosalyn?" She was sitting at a table, not in danger, finishing off a meal with a young male duck that Quiver suspected he'd never met. Quiver felt his cheeks grow warm with his mistake.

"Wait a minute." His mind refocused again. "She's still what, only fourteen? What's she doing dating boys at this age?"

* * *

Quiver waited in the shadows, highly suspicious as Quiverwing and the unknown suitor stepped through the doorway.

"... Well, there's a ballet concert on at the Ritz." The boy said as he closed the door behind them.  
"I thought this was a date, not a torture session!"  
The boy snatched her up in a whirl, as if dancing. He held her in his arms, almost parallel to the ground. "Who says it can't be both?"

"I do." Quiver snarled.

The boy pulled Quiverwing back up to a stand. "Who ..."  
"Ah! Carl, this is Quiverwing Duck."  
"What?"  
"He's my dad from a different universe."  
"Oh." Carl's face cleared. He stuck out his hand for Quiver. "I'm Carl Eider."

But before Quiver even had a chance to consider whether this was a good thing or not, a street telephone rung nearby.  
"Oh, dear."  
"What's wrong, Q?" Carl asked.  
"What's not wrong? When mum uses psychic channelling to locate you, it's usually not a good thing." She ran to answer the ringing.

Carl frowned in thought.

'Mum?' Fascinated, Quiver took this opportunity to vector in closer to Quiverwing's conversation. '... Mum ...'  
"Well, yeah, but he's not, I mean, we've got A Darkwing Duck. Well, okay. We'll be there ASAP." Quiverwing hung up. She turned, "She says she's not fussy." She grabbed Quiver, "Carl, I need your help to get us home, please?"

* * *

In a moment of complete disorientation, Quiver found himself standing in the backyard of his home. He put his hand to his head, fighting dizziness.

There were sounds of metal banging in the house.

"In our ... back ... yard, Carl?" Quiverwing looked up for a moment to the bedroom windows. "I'll remember that." Quiver looked over at Carl, who had a deep blush on his face. Quiver had already suspected as much back at the restaurant.

"Are you coming, guys?" She pulled out her bow and an arrow and Quiver did the same. Quiverwing twisted the knob of the unlocked door, and they filed into the house.

* * *

Morgana was in the lounge room, fighting off a giant mound of blue goo and tentacles with a frying pan.

"It's got an anti-hex spell on it!" She shouted at them as it snarled and slobbered grotesquely, smelling like it'd come from the sewers. "Get away you ... brute!"

Carl dodged past Quiverwing and began wrestling with the monster. The fight took about five seconds, as the slimy thing caught him and flung him back against the stair banister. The creature turned from Morgana to Carl, and roared at him, approaching. Quiver raised his bow and fired the gas arrow. This caused Morgana and Carl to cough, but it worked enough to get the thing's attention away from the brash youth. It roared at Quiver and started for him now.

Quiver narrowly dodged a swipe from one its tentacles, then help came.  
"Hey, you!" The Quiverwing Quack shouted, standing in the kitchen doorway. "You want some foo-die-woo-die? Over here, big boy." The thing turned its head to Quiverwing. "Good food. Lots of food." The creature came for her, and she stood her ground.  
Quiver's nerves twitched. Not again. "Quiverwing, get out of the way!" He rushed forwards, but he was too late and he was behind it as the creature lunged for Quiverwing.

* * *

Quiverwing jumped up, catching the frame of the door and getting out of the way just in time. The creature crashed into the kitchen, and the teenager dropped down, back-flipped and flicked the dishwasher door shut with her foot.

Quiver stared at her. "That was amazing! How'd you learn gymnastics like that? I'm hopeless at teaching that sort of stuff."

"It was a summer school you sent me to one year." Quiverwing pressed the buttons, and the machine began chugging away. There was a last monstrous gurgle, and a few moments later there was nothing but the liquid sound and motorized hum of the washer. She turned the machine off, opened the door and dug around in the machine. After a moment, she pulled out a blue ball that fit easily in her fist. Quiverwing tossed it at Morgana who caught it.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Morgana sighed in relief.  
"Thank dad for letting us get a dishwasher." Quiverwing grinned.  
Morgana picked up a small parcel on the sideboard and put the blue ball into it. Meanwhile, Quiver and Carl righted the table that Quiverwing had overturned.  
"Another gift-o-gram from Transylvania?" Carl asked.  
"It's very childish." Morgana sighed. "I'm appalled by this behaviour."  
"Well, why don't you send one back?" Carl asked behind them in the doorway. "Fight a rattle with a rattle?" Quiverwing suppressed a giggle.

"Hey, how'd you know the dishwasher would work, Q? I mean, you only just saw the thing."  
"A little something my dad taught me a long time ago, Carl." Quiverwing said proudly, then gave Quiver another fierce hug. "The only solution to a dirty, mucky, smelly thing like that is a good cleaning."

* * *

Then her face grew stern. "Oi, you ..." The teenage crime-fighter pushed past them. Carl stepped out of her way just in time.

"Is the monster gone, Q?" A tiny thin voice piped from the other room.  
Morgana moved through the doorway after Quiverwing. "Yes, sweetie."  
Quiver stepped into the lounge room, considering the duckling in Quiverwing's arms. 'My biological daughter? Not quite, it's a different universe. But it is possible ...' He snatched a hopeful look at Morgana.

The child shrieked. "Monster!" She pointed at Quiver, and then squirmed in Quiverwing's arms, attempting to hide.  
Quiverwing wrestled with the child for a moment. "No, he's ... not-the-monster, sweetie." Quiverwing cooed at the toddler. The child blinked with tears in her eyes at Quiver.  
"I want my daddy."  
"Well, now I feel cheap." Quiver couldn't believe his ears. 'I'm an impostor in my own house. What am I doing here?'

Quiverwing approached him and forced the toddler into his arms.  
"This one's just as good." Quiverwing was firm with her words.  
"What's his name?" The duckling asked.  
"Quiverwing Duck."  
"No, the monster." Quiverwing looked at Carl, then back at Morgana.

"Darkwarrior Duck." Quiverwing said, swallowing hard. "I didn't realise you could pick that up, Ray."

"We should put you to bed now, darling." Morgana moved towards Quiver, but the child gripped him all the tighter.  
"Oh, uh," Morgana turned her eyes from the duckling up to Quiver, "Dark, could you do that, please?"  
'Dark.' His brain turned to instant mush. "Sure." It was only at this moment that he realised how tightly he was holding onto the promise in his arms; almost as fierce as she was clinging on to him.

"I'd better return this parcel to its sender." Morgana excused herself and closed the front door after her as Quiver went up the stairs.

* * *

Quiver tucked Raya into bed.

"Can you tell me a story?"  
"Oh, well, sure." Quiver answered in surprise and searched his brain. "There was once a brave knight who lived in a tower." He smoothed the blankets over her. "Every night she went out. Even when it rained or snowed, out she still went."  
"What did she do when she went out?"  
"Well, she fought dragons and ..."  
"Oh no!" Raya cried out, "I like dragons!"  
"Uh, she fought the bad dragons, and made friends with the good ones."  
"Oh, that's better." Raya sighed in relief and settled back into the bed. "I was worried."  
"You're too little to worry, sweetie." He kissed her forehead. "And sometimes, her dragon friends helped her on her adventures."  
"What sort of adventures?"  
"She saves people from the bad dragons."  
"She must live in the Dreaming. There are not many dragons around nowadays." Raya yawned and snuggled into her pillow. "Maybe one day she'll move to the future and find some bad ducks to fight instead."  
"Yeah, I'll remember to tell her that." He cooed at the duckling. "Sleep well, sweetie."

Quiver was on cloud nine as he stepped out softly into the hallway, gently closing the door behind him. 'All things possible.' He felt his heart singing.

* * *

_A/N: 'The Dreaming' or 'The Dreamtime' (Google/Wiki it and learn something valuable) this is me continuing on my quest to merge different folklores to create a new social history text. There are no dragons in The Dreamtime ... or are there?_


	10. Quiverwing Duck Part 4

**Quiverwing Duck Continued: The Quiverwing Quack**

* * *

Part Four

"You're going to find yourself outmatched, Q. I mean, you're talking about taking on the guy that's taught you everything you know."  
Quiver turned from the door and faced the corridor.  
"I'm not stupid, Carl; I know that. But I also know that I've been training to kill Darkwing Duck, not be his sidekick."

Quiver's stomach plummeted as he stood in front of Raya's bedroom door, his insides squirming. 'Not my Gosalyn?'  
"Easy, Q!"  
"I'll tell you to take it easy, Carl. How would you deal if you were Darkwing Duck? Chase and catch, chase and catch, all night, every night. How would you like that job?"  
Carl's voice was shaky. "I couldn't do it. I don't know how he does it." Carl said with a sigh. "His stamina is bound to wear down against temptation eventually. I guess you're right."

"No, you see, that's exactly what I'm not saying! Darkwing Duck does it very well. And despite the intent behind the training, his stamina is not at risk. But now there's Darkwarrior Duck. All my training suddenly has an application."  
"You don't think you can save Darkwarrior?" Carl asked.  
"That would break the very first rule of engagement that my father ever taught me."

"Your dad's not always right, you know."  
"Honestly, Carl. I've never listened when he's not making sense. I wish you had a bit more faith in me!"  
"But won't taking a hard line make you like Darkwarrior Duck?"  
"No, that just makes me smart!" Quiverwing exclaimed heatedly. "You don't even know what my dad says! You don't even want to hear it."

"I'm sorry. Of course I do." Carl apologised quietly, "what is the first rule of engagement?"  
"Dad says: 'A duck who knows when to walk away, lives to quack another day.' Basically, you need to keep a realistic attitude to the situation and never go in over your head."  
"That's sort of like what my dad says, which is: 'regroup, reinforce, return, and ...' um ..."  
" 'Resume'?" Quiverwing answered for him.  
"Okay, so you don't think your dad will crack. What makes Darkwarrior Duck so different from your dad?"  
"I don't know. I've spent years trying to figure that out, Carl."

Quiverwing was silent for a long moment and Quiver, standing there at the top of the stairs wondered too.  
"I mean, what turns a guardian into a demon?"  
"Well, that's easy. That happens when he's lost what he was guarding." Carl answered simply.  
"Holy zombification." Quiverwing muttered. "That would be me." She was quiet for some moments. "No wonder he bought me so many dolls that first year. No wonder he keeps a sharp eye on you. Carl Eider."  
"Yeah, okay, you've got me scared now, Gosalyn." Carl said quietly.  
"You should be. You're up against Darkwing Duck!" Quiverwing said in a bold, proud voice.  
Quiver found himself a bit shocked, realising that Gosalyn was using he, or rather his counterpart from this universe as a barricade. Did she feel somehow threatened by this Carl Eider? It didn't seem likely for a girl who took down heavily set criminals on her off evenings.

"You've never seen a peacekeeper, have you, Carl?" Her tone suddenly changed into a query.  
"Sure, I've met your dad ..."  
"No, Carl." Quiverwing responded in a slow dark voice. "You've never seen my father. But maybe you might have heard him once or twice out there. On the street: keeping the evil out of St Canard."

"What use is that if he can't keep the evil out of himself?"  
"Nobody's innocent, Carl. Well, except maybe Launchpad and little Raya. And Eek and Squeak, of course. But that's about where it ends. Quiverwing Duck understands that, but Darkwarrior Duck either lost his understanding, or lost the ability to care. When he changed his line, he changed his MO."

* * *

Quiver stepped down the stairs. Quiverwing smiled up at him. "Right, we'd better get back to Megavolt. I'm sure he's long since located my father amidst that mess, and it's about time we solve this conundrum before St Canard gets a crimson wash and wax."

* * *

_A/N: I would love to hear any opinions or advice. Please review!_


	11. Quiverwing Duck Part 5

**Quiverwing Duck: Part 5**

* * *

Part Five

"It's getting worse." Megavolt reported as they stepped in through the window. He returned to gazing at the tracking receiver, in a world of his own.  
"Have you found D?"  
"Yeah, he's seventeen timelines, in that direction." He waved. "About three streets down."  
"Seventeen?"  
"It's a real mess."  
"How's it getting worse?"  
"The central ...I ... mean ... the knot is tightening." Megavolt translated mid-sentence.  
"How many timelines are there in total?"  
"I don't have that kind of wattage on this thing. Sorry."

"My timeline's earlier than this one by about a year or so." Quiver volunteered.  
"Yeah, that's why I'm calling it a knot. In the space of about nine or ten years, your personal timeline is really screwed, D ... I mean Quiverwing Duck. Many times over."  
"A lot can happen in ten years." Quiverwing said thoughtfully.  
"Like Darkwarrior Duck." Quiver commented, unimpressed.  
"So we need to get D and then a way to fix the problem."  
"I've got the method. We'll need to be dead centre of the knot in order to use my Detangler."

Megavolt crossed the room, petting a see-through sphere that looked like something out of an infant's toy box. 'If Megavolt picks it up will it rattle?' Quiver privately wondered.  
"But the wattage needed will be luck to get on the scene. We'll pull all the lights out on St Canard, that's if I can plug into a power point at the scene."

"Hang on!" Quiverwing interrupted him. I've just thought of something. You fire up that old clackety generator again, and I'll be back in about half an hour." Quiverwing dove once again out the window.  
"I'm surprised that I didn't give her the keys to the rat-catcher." Quiver muttered with sarcasm.  
"... Because she's not old enough to drive. I remember I asked you that question already. I sure wish you were you; I wanted to know if I could put a rocket booster on her skateboard for her. You said you'd think about it. And then poof!"

"You used to be so reliable too." Megavolt chuckled at his own joke.

* * *

"What does this Detangler do, exactly? You sure made it quick."  
"I had help." Megavolt's smile was as broad as a Cheshire cat's. "It's a wireless reverse switch. It doesn't even need a port to connect. It just needs to be in close proximity to the target machine."

Quiver stared at the ex-toy and whistled. "Impressive. It's a remote that undoes things. You could stop missiles from launching, even when someone's trashed the console. No more scrabbling for wires."  
"Get a lot of those, Quiverwing Duck?"  
"Enough to want one of these ... Do you suppose it could stall a car?"  
"Well, not a vintage one like my car. But all the new cars would go bye byes."

Megavolt stared at the sphere anew. "Whoa, this thing could cause a heck of a lot of damage! Traffic lights, microwaves, Xerox machines!"  
"I was only thinking I could stop crooks from driving off in their get-away cars, Megs."  
"Well, I'm sorry." Megavolt said as if he were talking to a child. "There's only one of these and it's only going to be used once." He petted it. "That's for the job it's designed to do."

'There was once a time you jammed on causing traffic jams.' Quiver thought to himself.  
"Why, if this machine fell into the wrong hands, I might end up rewriting my monthly reports forever!"  
"Okay, I've got the point, Megs."  
"No!" Megavolt grabbed his arms. "I hate paperwork!"  
"Me too!" Quiver consoled him, holding him back. "Absolutely, one hundred percent couldn't agree more! It's dangerous and it mustn't fall into the wrong hands."

Megavolt relaxed and let go of his arms. "Phew. You know, if you weren't a crime fighter, I'd think you were lying right now."  
"Ha!" Quiver crossed his arms with a triumphant grin. "Moi? Temptation?" Then he frowned. "Power corrupts too easily. No, you're absolutely right, Megsy. One job only."

"You already know how to defuse bombs, anyway." Megavolt shrugged.  
"And it'd never undo the things in life that really matter." Quiver added, turning away to stare out the window.

* * *

Megavolt stepped away from the plastic sphere to join him at the window. "Quiver, when we fix the timelines, you'll get pulled where you're supposed to be and we'll return here as the multiverse smoothes itself back out to normal. But while we're gone, there'll be no Quiverwing Quack to protect St Canard in this universe."  
"But ... she shouldn't be going to face Darkwarrior ... that'll be too dangerous! I should know!"  
"Quiverwing's fine! We'll find D first. I'm more worried about my ... and your ... families."  
Quiver stared at Megavolt.

Megavolt shrugged. "I mean, there could be more Darkwarriors, more Negaducks, and more Darkwing Ducks. More any sort of you. Who can possibly guess? Stay here, Quiver. Protect our kids. St Canard needs you for as long as you're around." Megavolt frowned. "I don't want anyone like Darkwarrior around my kids. He'll take one look at them and try to blast a hole in them. They're not bad kids, they're just ... energetic."

Quiver looked over at the Detangler. He didn't know how old Megavolt's children were, but the way Megavolt described them was exactly how he would have described Gosalyn. Finally he nodded. "I'll stay here."

Megavolt smiled. "Thanks, Drake."

* * *

The lab rat turned to the large generator machine that looked like it had been an MRI unit in a past life.

"So this is where you work now, huh?" Quiver looked around as Megavolt's large machine began to hum ... and then started clanging.  
"Yeah. I get paid to invent things."  
"Neat. But, uh, why's it making that noise?"  
"Oh, that's the fuzzy logic working with the torque control system. But!" Megavolt raised his arm in triumph; the modified tracking device was secure around his wrist, "now I have exact universal co-ordinates. I can align the systems perfectly to a precisely targeted position." So saying he began fiddling, adjusting the controls, humming. The clanging did in fact stop.

"So it can send people as well as pick them up?" Quiver asked in confirmation, staring at the round mouth of the unit.  
"Yeah. Mind you don't stand there where the subspace bubble is forming." He pointed to the space in front of the mouth.

Quiver moved quickly to Megavolt's side. "It comes to my attention that we're putting a lot of faith in you. Are you sure you're not a criminal anymore?"  
"Well, I am still Megavolt."  
"Oh?" Quiver thought on this for a long moment.

"That's great!" Quiver cheered in decision. "Do you have any advice that I can use to make the Megavolt in my universe stop being a criminal?"  
"I dunno, Quiver." Megavolt frowned. "In this universe it involved both of us dying."  
"I'm sure that you don't mean that physically."  
"Well, no ..." Megavolt ruminated. "I survived, that much is true ..." His eyes waxed over and he just seemed to be staring into space for several long moments.

Quiver frowned at Megavolt. "Didn't I survive as well?" He prompted.

"Survive what?" Megavolt blinked, suddenly forgetting their conversation. "It's not lethal! I mean, a couple of trips aren't going to cause too much damage. Everybody-knows-continued-subspace-travel-is-terminally-destructive-on-biological-systems. But-we're-talking-potentially-a-dozen-trips-before-any-damages-begin-to-show. Look, I didn't cause the problem; I'm just trying to fix it. What happened to-?"

"Okay!" Quiver exclaimed, "I'm not complaining and I really do appreciate your help."

* * *

The Quiverwing Quack finally returned, coming back in through the window. "Phew." She breathed rapidly. "I got it." She straightened herself, catching her breath. "We're all set."

Megavolt turned and double-checked the settings on the large machine.

Quiver quickly hugged Quiverwing. "I love you, kiddo." He fought back a surge of tears. "Take care. Remember that first rule of engagement."  
"Right." She pulled away from him, grinning.

"Oh!" Megavolt's eyes flew open, "With all the excitement I nearly forgot a very important detail!"  
"What?" Quiver asked in a bundle of nerves.  
Megavolt took a breath. "I'm sorry to be a pain, but would it bother you terribly if you could lift that lever back up and then turn off the switch at the wall once we're gone?" He pointed to the large lever then the wall near the door.  
"Uh, sure, Megavolt." Quiver smiled in relief. "No problem."

The Quiverwing Quack stepped in front the subspace portal generator with Megavolt and the Detangler.

"Don't forget to duck!" Quiver exclaimed nervously. The Quiverwing Quack saluted him before the two of them disappeared into thin air. Once again, his daughter was gone.

* * *

Quiver brushed aside his fresh tears and dragged the lever back up. The internal feedback from the silence increased in his ears, reminding him how alone he was. He flicked off all the power switches at the wall, and then he left the room via the window, shutting it after him.

* * *

_A/N: I would love to hear any opinions or advice. Please review!_


	12. Opinion Noted

_A/N: I may not have an action figure, but I do have a Megavolt living in my brain. This is the part of me that enjoys randomly connecting ideas together in a continuing stream of technobabble. This is the part of me that I often use to write IMO my most exciting stuff with. This is the part of me that can sit here and write this 2,113 word episode in the matter of a couple hours. _

_In true Megavolt fashion, I have created this episode by combining an odd assortment of things together._

_A/N: _Twitching Channels_ is the nature of this particular story. And such is my habit for this one; I have once again gone all out on the blatant references in this episode._

_A/N: Please enjoy, and oh, don't scream too loudly, you might wake the vampire kipping in your closet._

* * *

**Opinion Noted**

* * *

Megavolt saw not one but two Darkwings interrupting his light rescue.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night." They said in unison.

"No-no-no!" Megavolt jumped up, barely containing a scream. "Not two of you?"

"Yes, two Darkwing Ducks."

Dark turned to shadow, reappearing beside Megavolt.  
"Whoa ..." Megavolt took his goggles off and cleaned them for a moment. "That wasn't the same cheesy effect you normally pull."  
"Oh, get real." Darkwing came charging up from the distance. "Look, Megs. Here's the deal. He's from another universe."  
"What universe would that be?" Megavolt pondered.

"Are all the light bulbs free from slavery in that one?"  
"Not quite." Dark said solemnly. "In my universe, Darkwing Duck is a vampire."  
"Darkwing Duck?" Megavolt blinked, thinking this one through for a moment. "Aren't you Darkwing Duck? Wouldn't that make you a vampire then, smarty pants?"

"Oh, boy. This is going to take forever." Darkwing Duck moaned from behind.  
"Time is relevant only when schedules conflict." Dark informed him before returning to his conversation with Megavolt. "Imagine if you will, Megsy. Your Darkwing Duck here, chasing you down, figuring out your plots and foiling them all the time."  
"That's easy to imagine. It really happens."

"Good. Now, double the problem. Two Darkwing Ducks. You get chased twice as much as you do already."  
Megavolt shuddered. "That's inhuman."  
Dark smiled at him. "Now imagine one of these Darkwing Ducks already knows where you are. He already knows what you're planning just before you set about to do it."  
"Impossible."  
"Not impossible for a vampire. If I wanted I can hunt you and haunt you every single night and I will never get tired of doing it."  
"Isn't there a rule about an individual's rights?"  
"Forfeited! You're a criminal, Megavolt. I'm not threatening you, I'm just stating facts. I can stand at your elbow and wait to stop your next crime. Every time."

"That is just so like you!" Megavolt growled. "You're so mean."  
Dark took a step away from him. "I can give you a chance to fix it."  
Megavolt widened his eyes. "Oh, that sounds good." Then he narrowed his eyes in scepticism. "What's in it for you?"  
"I don't want to be in this universe. You don't want me in this universe. He doesn't even want me in this universe." Dark gestured over his shoulder at Darkwing. "It's just that there's one major problem with getting what we want."

"Oh, no!" Megavolt groaned. "I hate that. There's always a catch."  
"Yeah." Dark said sympathetically. "The catch is that we need a person who's an expert in quantum flux singularities, subspace travel and multiversal frequency alignments to figure out how to get me back home and away from here." He let his shoulders slump. "I don't suppose you know of anybody who's any good at all that sort of stuff?"  
Megavolt jumped in enthusiasm. "Oh, me! I am! I love quantum singularities. I can do subspace frequencies. The best radio station in the multiverse is 17OHT 100.3! Believe me, give me two sets of co-ordinates and I can align anything between them!"

"Sure, Megsy ... but it'll be tricky, won't it?"  
"I don't know yet, I've been working this problem for about thirty seconds. Gimme a break." Megavolt grabbed his arm and pulled him across the roof to the Exit door. "Come on, let's get studious."

Darkwing followed after them. "Nice line, Megsy." He mused quietly to himself. "I'll remember that one for Gos."

* * *

They went to Megavolt's chaotic flat down on Railway Ave.

"What a mess." Darkwing commented. "What would your mother say?"  
"She'd say that true geniuses are always messy!" Megavolt retorted, digging through a heap of equipment for several minutes.  
"Yep." Darkwing reconsidered, "that sounds like Mrs. S alright. Speaking of, how is your ma, Megsy?"

"I've got it!" Megavolt pulled out what looked like an electronic version of a surfboard, not hearing the question.  
"What's the power source on that thing?" Dark said in curiosity. "Low wattage, but it looks like an alien artefact."  
"It is an alien artefact. Well, sort of. It really was a prop from the _Doctor Who_ show. I bought it off eBay and made it work for real." Megavolt grinned. "Anybody could see that baby was made solid."

"What's it supposed to do now you've tinkered with it?" Darkwing asked fretfully. "Blow things up?"  
"Oh, that's just typical that you jump straight to that conclusion." Megavolt snorted. "You haven't watched a single episode of _Doctor Who_ in your life, have you?"  
Darkwing swallowed. "That's not true. I've watched a few when I was a kid. I don't remember a surfboard in any of them though."

Megavolt stared at Darkwing in disbelief. "There's a whole new series out now!" He grabbed the mallard's shoulders and shook him. "You've got to watch it! It's ... it's ..."  
"Brilliant?" Darkwing offered.  
"Yeah!" Megavolt turned away from him and began working with the surfboard, his refrigerator and a television antenna.

Darkwing turned to Dark. "Alright, tell me why we're not just locking this ... extremely ... crazed and dangerous super villain up and out of harm's way?"  
Now Megavolt grabbed a ream of cabling from his cupboard and plugged the TV into the fridge.  
"Are you nuts, DW?" Dark Duck admonished. "He's agreed to help."  
"You darn near tortured him into submission on that one."  
"I did not! I merely brought him into consensus."  
"You do that often, eh?"  
Dark Duck rubbed his face.

Darkwing crossed his arms. "A criminal is a criminal."  
"No, they are not!" Dark argued. "If I played everything your way I could end up eating someone important." He smiled bitterly at Darkwing. "Does that sound like the better alternative?"  
"Uh, no." Darkwing frowned, and then he turned his eyes on the super villain. "What is it, Megavolt?"

Megavolt was standing there, watching them. "Uh, well, if you two are finished arguing with yourself, I can try tuning into your universe ... um ... I mean black-clothed Darkwing's universe."  
"It's black and grey." The vampire replied. "If you call me Dark, that'll be easier. I'm Dark, he's Darkwing."  
"Oh, sure. That's a good idea, I suppose."

Megavolt pointed to the fridge door. "Just hold that handle and the TV will tune into your frequency via the sonic surfboard's mini subspace converter assembly."  
"Um ... sure, okay. That's easy enough."  
Dark reached out for the handle but Darkwing tugged him back.  
"Are you insane? Why are you trusting him? Megavolt has a habit of trying to make toast of me. There's no reason that he'd do the exact same to you."

"I'm hurt." Megavolt pouted.

"I trust Megavolt's motivations in this matter." Dark said, making the rat smile. "Besides, this thing can't do much because it doesn't have enough power; all it's good for is a midnight snack."

"Of course it doesn't have a lot of power." Megavolt grumbled. "The fridge is running off the mains and the sonic surfboard runs on six nine volt batteries. I already said we were just tuning into that universe."

Darkwing Duck let go and Dark grabbed the handle.

A little box popped up in front of the static on the TV screen. 'Searching' the television reported.

"Oh, boy, it's working!" Megavolt excitedly watched the screen going black, white, grey and then purple.  
"Either that or I'm helping you tune into next week's episode of Cosmoduck."  
"Don't be silly." Megavolt snorted. "There's no such TV show."  
"Not yet." Dark grinned at Megavolt.  
"Is it any good?"  
"I'll just say it's worth a look."

"Here it is."

* * *

They stared at the TV as the search finished and the channel loaded up. Megavolt turned up the volume.

On the screen appeared a streetscape. The buildings were identical to those of St Canard.  
"That's on the corner of Sunny and Fifth," Darkwing noted, "that's old Moe's convenience store." Two hoodlums slinked towards the door, weapons on hand.

"Nuts. Maybe it's not such a good idea to watch this sort of thing on TV after all." Dark grumbled.

They went inside. A moment later, the three standing there in front of the TV watched a duck in a black cape step up to the door.  
"Hey, isn't that you?" Megavolt pointed at Dark.  
"No, it isn't me. Obviously there's another switched Darkwing Duck out there. He's just taken my place in my universe."

"Another Darkwing Duck. How's that for a headache?" Megavolt commented.

Meanwhile on the screen the duplicate raised a bow and arrow and fired into the store. The whole place filled with smoke.

"Obviously not a vampire." Darkwing commented.

"I am the arrow that zings through the night!"

The burglars in the convenience store spun around. "N-no way, you're not real!"

"I am the parking metre that expires while you shop. I am ..."

"Go away! You're not real! This can't be happening."  
"Oh, yes it can!" Quiver fired a net arrow, and hooked the criminals as they struggled to get free.

"That's a relief for you I guess." Darkwing shrugged. "Someone's in your universe doing your job."  
"I actually was hoping to see Quiverwing." Dark said sadly, letting go of the fridge handle. The channel was lost and the noise of the static filled the room until Megavolt turned it down again. "And besides, that just raises the question of who is in his universe doing his job?"

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave." Megavolt remarked, staring at the TV. "This is more messed up than I thought."  
"Why, multiple Darkwings switched around?"  
"No." Megavolt pointed to the static screen. "What the heck is 'Coke Zero'?  
"What?"  
'You heard me. It was on sale in the store next to the ordinary coke. Don't tell me you missed it, hawk eye."

Dark looked around at Megavolt's hideout. Then he looked at the TV. "That... That's a Cathode Ray Tube!"  
"Well, yeah, what're the TV's like where you come from?"  
"They're Liquid Crystal Display."  
"That is awesome!" Megavolt grinned. "Imagine watching _Young Frankenstein_ on a screen like that!" He exclaimed. "The mind boggles. What other sort of technology do you have on us?"

"Um ... 'Coke Zero.' " Dark thought quickly. "I believe this is coke with caffeine but instead of sugar it has artificial sweeteners."  
"Yay! What else? Plasma toaster ovens?"  
"Uh, no."  
"What about pizza dehydrators? Man, I'm hungry." Megavolt pushed Dark aside and reached into the fridge.

"That'd be typical. Make food even more preserved and artificial." Dark growled. "It's not healthy. I don't care if it is gluten free, lactose free and 97% less fat." He stormed across the room and sat down on Megavolt's couch next to a litter of light bulbs.  
"He's sure gloomy." Megavolt closed the fridge and started chewing on left over pizza.  
"Yeah, he doesn't like talking about food."

"Vampires drink blood. That'd be a sort of criminal thing to do, wouldn't it?"  
"Well, I don't know, Megsy." Darkwing defended. "Seems to me it really depends on who, don't you think?"  
Megavolt swallowed, eyeing Darkwing warily. "Have you ever been normal, Darkwing? I mean, in your whole life? Have you ever even had a go at having a normal day?"

Darkwing's patience was wearing out. "Look, Megavolt, what's it going to take to send him back where he came from?"  
"I'm glad you asked because I don't have that sort of technology hanging around. We need an RF generator."  
"RF? What sort of machine uses Radio-Frequency energy?"  
"Oh, well ..." Megavolt shrugged. "A Magnetic Resonance Imaging device would do the job. I can modify it to generate a subspace field, and-."  
"No way, Megavolt! I'm not breaking into a hospital ... in fact; I'm not breaking in anywhere, anytime soon." Darkwing firmly clamped down on the idea. "Come on, Dark Duck." He snorted and grabbed the door handle. "We'll just have to think of something else."

"You're crazy!" Megavolt yelled after them down the corridor. "Unless you're loaded with Huron particles you're not going to be making any trans-dimensional portals on your own!"


	13. A Dark Verse Part 1

_A/N: And now for something entirely different for this story ... plot continuity! For those not caring about that sort of thing consider this as just a set up for what happens in the very next chapter. For anyone else, this all takes place after '_Just A Nightmare_'._

_A/N: Hands up to those who've watched _Law and Order_ and _CSI_?_

_A/N: __My OC integrations are unavoidable in this episode. If you didn't guess from 'Wisteria', Simon Bushroot is too important to my subsequent plotline for me to simply 'edit him out of existence'. I seriously don't understand what you guys have against the poor kid! I need useful original characters to play off against the regular characters because the original cast isn't broad enough to do all the new things I want to do. Well, I don't care, because the more people that hate him, the stronger he'll get. That seems to be the thing with plants, doesn't it?_

* * *

**A Dark Verse: Part 1**

* * *

'Just another average night ...' Quiverwing Duck, posing as Dark Duck, walked back to the rat-catcher after handing the robbers to nearby police officers.

_"DW."_  
The radio on the rat-catcher? He turned on the ignition and the radio turned off.  
The built-in screen activated. "That's a new feature." He reviewed the technology upgrade in curiosity.  
_"What's a new feature, DW?"_  
"Never mind, Launchpad. What's the matter?"

_"DW, I don't know why you're flying below the radar, but you'd better call in."_  
"S.H.U.S.H. has a case?"  
_Launchpad raised an eyebrow. "Heh, maybe I'd better give you the street address, ol' buddy."_

* * *

Quiver stepped into the foyer of the commerce building, feeling desecrated.

"You're frankly harder to get hold of than your universal counterpart."

Quiver eyed the security officer walking up to him.  
"I'm Lawrence Eider, head of security for the St Canard division of Hamil Corporation." He gestured to the lift and Quiver followed him.

"While you're here in his place, you do realise you have to fill in for any ongoing cases we're going through?"  
"I've given testimonies before."  
"I'm afraid this'll be a little different. You're the one who has raised the charges."

* * *

Quiver sat down in the seat Eider directed him into. 'I raised a charge?' He looked around the board room table.  
"Alright." The black haired duck on the far end of the table stared at him for a long moment as more people began filing into the room.

Quiver shrugged her weirdness off and considered the other people in the room. There were two women ducks directly opposite him. One wore an evening dress, the other a business suit. Both of them looked at him, one with confusion, and the other with interest.  
"Elmo said you're from another universe." The curious one wearing a business suit said. Her voice was crystal clear, as if she were speaking from a high definition TV set. "I'm Felicia Sputterspark. This is my mother, Kyla Princeton."  
"Pleased to meet you." He nodded to Kyla. "Ma'am."

A lanky dog stepped in through the doorway with a briefcase. He folded his lengthy self down into the seat beside Quiver. "Incredible, you're Quiverwing Duck." He held out his hand, grinning. "I'm Attorney Rex Euston."  
"You work state prosecution?" Quiver shook his hand. "Maybe you can answer what we're doing in a commerce building for me?"  
"Well, since you can't leave St Canard, the session is to be held here."

"Can I ask ..." Quiver's question trailed off as he watched Reginald Bushroot and a blonde duck walk in the room, hand in hand.

"Okay people. We are missing The Quiverwing Quack but we can't hold this up."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen ..." The woman at the front of the room stood up as she spoke. She looked turned her eyes in the direction of Felicia and Bushroot. "And surviving contestants. We have an apology from Elmo Sputterspark and The Quiverwing Quack who elected to save the multiverse instead of attending."  
'Which reminds me ... why am I here?' Quiver wondered. 'I should be out there.'  
"So the purpose for tonight is both unique and rather grave. Darkwing Duck has presented the Mastership with a significant dilemma. I have assembled you, so that we can mesh together hard facts and reason to come to a conclusion." She sat down.

"Are there any questions about the proceedings themselves?"  
"Yes, Master." Rex Euston leaned forwards. "Your opinion usually stands on its own, Malduck. You suggest a bias in yourself?"  
"Yes." Her dark eyes turned to Quiver. "I really hope Darkwing Duck is wrong. There is a short supply of proper peacekeepers as it is."  
"Very well." Euston noted. "So here we begin."

* * *

Euston spoke. "The question that Darkwing brings to us tonight is 'has the peacekeeper in question turned rogue'. We all have a fair idea what a peacekeeper is. So I'll move on to-."

"I wanna know," piped a tiny voice. Everybody turned their heads, craning to see the child who had somehow escaped detection until now.

"Simon, what are you-how did you ..." Reginald stammered as he looked at his genetic proxy in front of him.  
"Darkwing Duck," the brazen boy stepped towards the table, his head barely reaching past the edge, "Do you know what a peacekeeper is?"  
Quiver gazed down at the errant young child. Gosh, he reminded him so much of Gosalyn, but so much younger. "Sure. A peacekeeper is a person who makes it their job to take action for the benefit of others. They make a choice of right over wrong for as long as they have that choice."

"What happens when they can't choose and they have to do the wrong thing?"  
Quiver stared at the child. 'How can I possibly answer that question?'  
"They get very sad." The blonde duck had turned her chair to face her child. "Simon, why aren't you with grandma and grandpa?"  
"Because this is too important, mummy."

* * *

Malduck spoke. "Perhaps we should have a recess so you can get him back."

Felicia glanced at Kyla before turning her head back to the Bushroots. "Please, let him stay," she requested. "If Simon says it's important, I'm inclined to believe that he needs to be here."  
"This isn't a discussion for children." Reginald Bushroot fixed his eyes on Felicia.  
"Please, just ask him what he already understands about it, Reggie, before you decide if your son can handle it or not."  
"Maybe you should ask the questions then, Felicia."  
"Okay."

Felicia got up off her chair and knelt down away from the table in front of Simon. "What's the question we're going to answer here tonight, Simon?"  
"Is the peacekeeper doing the wrong thing on purpose? Are they not doing their job anymore? Are they making things worse?"  
"And why is this important for you, Simon?"  
"Right and wrong are always important, Mrs. Sputterspark!"

Felicia nodded. "What happens if we do find him guilty, Simon?"  
Simon was quiet for a moment in thought. "Are Malduck and Darkwing Duck both peacekeepers?"  
"Yes."  
"But Darkwing Duck was the one that asked the question, right?"  
"Yes."  
"Then it's Darkwing Duck's job to stop him."

Felicia stood up and turned around, a look of triumph on her face before she looked back down at Simon. "Simon, what does 'stop' mean to you, exactly?"  
"What do you mean?" Simon rubbed his head in confusion. "Stopping someone means you stop them ... um, make them go quiet ... they ... stop ... thinking. They stop breathing. They stop ..." He shrugged and moved to Belladonna, "What's this one, mummy?" He took her hand and put it over his chest.

"Heart beats. That's the heart beating, sweetie." The blonde duck answered with a look of shock on her face.  
"No more heart beats. And that's also really important and that's what makes me confused. If you have to stop life to save life then what's the line you're going to draw?"

Quiver fisted his hands under the table as Felicia sat back down in her chair. 'Boy, this sounds very ugly.' "Shouldn't we be taking this to a proper court?"  
"It'll never get to a court, Quiver." Euston said quietly beside him.  
Malduck sat forwards in her chair, addressing his question. "Our kind functions better under martial law. However, we do attempt leniency in our viewpoints."  
"I object to killing anyone!" Quiver gritted.

"But you'll kill if you are certain you must. Now, if there's no further objection from the Bushroots, we can continue." For an answer, the miniature plant-duck climbed up into his father's lap.

* * *

"Very well." Euston began. "So now that we've defined the problem we are concerned with, we want to determine the existence of the problem. Let's start chronolo-"

"I'm sorry." Quiver interrupted. "But shouldn't the accused be here?"  
"Not bloody likely." Eider the security guard growled from the other side of Kyla Princeton. "We've lost priceless prototype technology to him."

"... Chronologically, we must start at the first conviction and carried sentence." Euston continued on, getting slightly annoyed at all the interruptions. "Malduck?"

The discussion carried on.

* * *

Euston picked up a piece of paper from in front of him. "Darkwing previously listed out to me several altercations in the past including the conviction and sentence carried on drumhead for an unprovoked attack on Darkwing himself resulting in injury that ..." He coughed, "that required specialised medical attention."  
Some of the people in the room shuddered, looking at Quiver with sympathy which was lost on him, since he'd personally been in another universe at the time.

"So we move onto the next significant situation involving the Lady Celeste Milton." Euston continued. A woman sitting on the other side of the Attorney cleared her throat. "The ramifications of the peacekeepers actions proved disastrous."

As the discussion continued on, Quiver was becoming increasingly tense.

* * *

'I'm beginning to like this 'peacekeeper' less and less ...'

"... I was not aware of this." Malduck remarked quietly. "Perhaps you should read out the full list pertaining to Quiverwing, Euston?"  
Euston put two pieces of papers side by side on the table. "There was a comment made which Darkwing originally dismissed." He reviewed the left page closest to Quiver. "In light of subsequent events, Darkwing now believes there is a legitimate threat that the peacekeeper in question may attempt to turn The Quiverwing Quack into a vampire."

Quiver felt his hands going sweaty.

"He may have just been baiting Darkwing. It is a bit of a stretch; I can see why he would have dismissed it."  
'I dismissed it?' Quiver could have had kittens. 'My little girl?'

"Darkwing also notes here that a few months later the peacekeeper kidnapped a ten year old and used her as bait. Quiverwing's statement on this is that: if it wasn't her, 'it would only have been some other kid'."  
"Taken out of the unique context of Quiverwing and Darkwing, I remind everybody that interfering with any child's course and putting them in the way of potential harm is a serious contravention of our laws."

'Well, thank you for that.' Quiver sat there, stung. '…But I thought I could keep her safer if she was by my side.' Tears filled his eyes.

The discussion continued on.

* * *

Eider pronounced. "You can't rule on him for that one."

"May I remind you that Darkwing did not rule 'on him' for it. He warned him in no uncertain terms not to come back to St Canard."

"Alright, so for what I see, our peacekeeper has a personal vendetta against Darkwing Duck, just as much as Lady Princeton." Felicia said in her silver screen voice. "The only difference is that he knows Darkwing's weakness and has attempted in the past to exploit it. That gives credence to the initial threat of turning Quiverwing into a vampire."  
"Well, I don't like that at all." Bushroot wound a few more loops of his viney arm around Simon in his lap. "It wouldn't matter if Darkwing was good or evil. Children are too important to bring into arguments."

"Is Darkwing aware of the danger to Quiverwing?" Malduck queried.  
Rex Euston hesitated. " 'There are precautions in place.' That's all he said. He was somewhat ... dark on the subject and wouldn't tell me what those precautions were."

Quiver observed troubled looks on quite a few faces as the people in the room found themselves guessing what that could mean. 'I've got them beat.' He found himself grinning in a pseudo relief. That meant Quiverwing stood a chance.

Malduck laughed suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm sorry. Your reactions are priceless."

"It's not a joke." Reginald frowned. "Darkwing has given Quiverwing enough 'precautions' to make him comfortable enough to step back. Considering how I feel about my children ... why that's ..."  
"Agreed, Bushroot." Eider backed him up. "Whatever it is, the girl's lethal at will."  
"Oh." Reginald responded. A look of relief filled his face. "Of course, well, why didn't I guess that? Oh, that's alright then." He brought Simon closer to him and rubbed his beak against his head in affection.  
Quiver couldn't have sold that visual moment. It warmed his heart.

"I think the case stands clear enough." Malduck sighed. "I give Darkwing clearance to do as he feels is required."

"Very well, the matter is concluded. This meeting is now adjourned." Rex Euston announced.

* * *

Quiver went to Malduck's side.

"One less peacekeeper." She said, looking up at him.  
"Maybe you can look at it a different way." Quiver advised her. "If he's not stopping the bad guys, if he's interfering with the good guys, then maybe you've already lost him?"

"I need a new peacekeeper!" She gritted at him, standing up. "If you get the chance, tell your multiversal counterpart." She crossed her arms. "If Ducker dies, The Quiverwing Quack will have to take his place. As soon as she reaches her Ascension, she'll have a new title. From what I've heard tonight, I think she can handle being a Vampire Slayer."

"Are you threatening me-him with this?"

"That would suggest I was capable of changing the outcome. No; I'm merely stating facts."


	14. A Dark Verse Part 2

**The King Verse**

* * *

**Part Two: The Electric Green Orchestra 1**

* * *

As if taking a trip with a panicky passenger wasn't bad enough, once they got to the bridge tower Phantom Duck found there wasn't a vacancy.

The occupants of the tower in this universe ... were plants.

The greenery crowded in all the places that the light reached and great mirror contraptions hung from the roof bringing more light into the once-shadowy place. Phantom Duck heard the sound of a heavy bucket land on the stone floor. He looked over to an embankment of foliage that hid the source of the sound.

"No-no, you can't bring him up here!" Bushroot's voice quacked from behind the scenery.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't know ..." Phantom Duck watched the plant-duck hybrid appear. "Why aren't you at the greenhouse, Bushroot?"  
"Are you for real?" Bushroot snorted, advancing on the two mallards. "Perhaps ... you ... would care to explain that one to him, Drakey Mallard?"  
"The King?" Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Why would-?"  
"He doesn't have a greenhouse anymore, Phantom Duck." Drakey explained quietly, "Cecile destroyed it."  
"Yeah, Drakey." Bushroot said rather unimpressed. "Your boss. And up till five minutes ago, he didn't know where I'd moved to, so The King didn't come around roughing me up anymore."  
"I won't tell him!" Drakey squawked urgently. "I don't tell him anything if I don't have to! Please! I only do what I'm told. I promise I won't tell!"  
"Humph. Well ... okay." Bushroot shrugged and then smiled.

* * *

Bushroot ruminated. "I remember that I used to be a wash-out like you, Drakey."

"You ... used to?" Drakey looked at Bushroot in awe. "But you changed? More than just turning into a ... w-w..."  
"Plant-duck hybrid. Or mutant; whatever. Yes. It's simple," Bushroot put his leafy hand on Drakey's shoulder. "You just need to change the way you think about the guy. He isn't the centre of your world; you are. You've got to tell yourself that you need to come first." Bushroot smiled, beaming with personal pride. "When I face people like that I tell them that I don't need no-one to tell me what to do. I know I'm on my own and there's nothing they can do so I don't need no one like them, to tell me what to do."  
"No-no!" Drakey squawked, trying to hush him, "you mustn't! Th-that's black-market music!"  
"Black-market music? I think we're far enough away from our next door neighbours up here, Drakey." Phantom Duck raised an eyebrow. "How did this 'black-market music' situation happen, Bushroot?"  
"The music genre gap means the war is never won." He sighed. "All of St. Canard's radio stations play the same music-oh, what I wouldn't give to play some nice baroque for my friends ..." He pointed accusingly at Drakey, "but your friends confiscated all my CDs."

"I am sorry." Drakey blinked at Reginald Bushroot. "Could you teach me these songs you know? Please?"  
Phantom Duck crossed his arms. Reginald Bushroot teaching his alter ego personal power?  
"Sure." Bushroot smiled in answer. "We could even be friends."  
"Oh, I'd like that." Drakey smiled, then blinked, "but, uh, is it safe?"

"You play life safe and that's not living! Keep it up and you'll never live at all!" Phantom Duck snarled at Drakey.

"The grumpy guy does have a point, Drakey." Bushroot conceded to Drakey, "I mean; I much prefer being a plant and I wouldn't be if I didn't take the chance with that experiment."

* * *

Bushroot moved past Drakey and fixed his eyes on Phantom Duck. "Who are you?"  
"I am Phantom Duck. I am -."  
"Yeah, okay, so what's your plan? I mean, I know Morgana's plan, but what's your song? Maybe I can help."  
"St. Canard needs someone to save it from the criminal under-element. Someone who is like Phantom Duck but who in fact is not Phantom Duck."  
"Are you ... g-going somewhere?"  
Phantom Duck eyed Drakey Mallard. "Once this King business is resolved I want to go back home, yes."  
"Well, okay if you think th-that's b-best."  
"But first I'm going to help Morgana bring down this villainous vocalist ... again." He rolled his eyes. "So then what about the others, Bushroot? Are they good guys or bad guys?"  
"I beg your pardon?" Bushroot blinked. "What others?"  
"Let's start with Liquidator."  
Bushroot shrugged. "Who?"  
"Okay ... have you heard of Megavolt or Quackerjack?"  
Bushroot opened his eyes up wide. "Megs?"


	15. A Dark Verse Part 3

_A/N: So? I got bored._

_A/N: I don't believe in FAIRIES, but I do believe in BIGGER FISH. So long as you believe _'there is always a bigger fish'_ you give yourself the opportunity to write a good role reversal story. Just like in this episode. Not all role reversals must involve someone with un-duck-like qualities, of course. You in fact see it all the time in the relationships between Darkwing, Gosalyn and Launchpad._

_Disclaimer: Thank you, Joey the Ripper, for inspiring the scene between Drake and Raya. A hybrid sees a very different world than those born and raised all one way. You captured this reality perfectly, as I hope that I do..._

* * *

**A Dark Verse Part 3**

* * *

Reginald woke up to find someone's feathered fingers in his mouth.  
"No fangs." A gruff voice said from above.

The plant-duck blinked up at the owner of the voice. 'Ducker?' Ducker withdrew his fingers. It was Ducker, the Juan Ducker. The disreputable Vampire Slayer. "I would really hope you haven't hurt my wife!" Reginald's head whirled as half a dozen reasons instantly cropped up in his mind.  
Ducker snorted and stepped away. "Collateral indeed," he muttered under his breath.

Reginald reached his vines around and ripped the Velcro off himself, and then he rushed to Belladonna's side and did the same. He was overwhelmed in relief that she was alright. She reached for him and grabbed him into a deep kiss that made him twine his vines tightly around her. After several moments passed he realised they weren't alone and he turned to look at Ducker warily.  
"Oh, please continue. I'm morbidly curious." The Slayer pressed a button that lowered a giant glass jar over them.

"No!" Belladonna shrieked, pulling away from Reginald. She pounded on the glass. "Please! You can't do this to me! No! Argh!" As she spoke her voice grew louder and more intense, ending in a rabid beastly yowl.

* * *

From the sofa Drake watched Raya colouring in at the coffee table. She was attempting to colour in using three pencils at once.

He put down the newspaper he'd been reading. "That's an interesting colour for the sky, Raya."  
"I want to make the picture timeless." She explained, holding up the pencils to him one by one. "See, this one's black for night-time, this one's blue for daytime."  
He raised an eyebrow. "What about the other one? You've got another pencil there."  
"That's grey for times when people get sad. Like you. All your days and nights are grey."  
"What about a yellow sun or moon?" Drake asked. "Wouldn't that help to cheer things up a bit?"  
"..." She took a breath ready to answer, but there was a knock on the front door and Raya closed her beak.

"Hold on, honey." He smiled at her.

Drake got up from the severely intellectual discussion to answer the door.

* * *

"Lawrence Eider?"

"Boy, you are hard to get hold of!" The security guard huffed. "It's like you Envys live in your own little bubble worlds, oblivious to-."  
"Is this going to be a long rant?" Drake interrupted him. He dragged Eider inside and closed the door for privacy's sake. "Can we jump to the reason why you're here?"

Eider took a breath, unfazed by Drake's bluntness. " 'Jump' is the word, alright. Someone jumped the Bushroots going home this morning. The perpetrator used a gas grenade like yours and it knocked them out for the count."  
"Simon was with them?" Drake asked tensely.  
"He escaped, luckily."  
Drake sighed in relief. He knew first hand that it was all too easy for children to become casualties.

"Poor kid watched them get carted away, though. It was all we could do to make him calm down. He's back at our offices. Since you're our expert, I figured you should handle it."  
Drake ran his hand over his face. "That was hours ago! Why'd you only come to me now?"  
Eider held up his hands in surrender. "Easy, Drake. Whoever pulled this used the word 'vampire'; Simon heard him loud and clear. Since that's the case, we've got a few hours before the kidnapper's expecting us."  
"It would still have been nice to have a bit more time." Drake relaxed a small fraction.

Then he stared at Eider. "It's daylight now!" He prodded Eider. "Didn't you have to step through sunlight to get to me? That means the 'turning to dust in the sunlight' thing doesn't work in this universal reality."  
Eider sighed. "I'm not getting into the mechanics of it today. Think of it as just a standard rule of engagement for most of us."  
Drake turned his head to review Raya.  
"Drake?"  
"I'm babysitting," he replied.

"Raya?"  
"Yes, daddy?" She stood up and came up to him.  
"Who does your daddy get to look after you when mummy's working and daddy needs to go to work too?"  
"That's easy. It's Q or Mr. Launchpad."

Drake hesitated. It was a relief because he also trusted Launchpad, but there was still a severe hitch in getting that plan to work. "I don't know where Launchpad is. He went out an hour ago and never mentioned where."  
"I know where he is, daddy!" Raya smiled and took his hand. "He's gone to the morgue."  
"Alive, I hope." Drake swallowed.  
Raya giggled. "You're funny, daddy. Of course he's alive."

"Let me help. You've never managed one this little before." Drake raised an eyebrow at the remark. "You write the note to Morgana, Drake. Raya, why don't you collect up your colouring pencils and book and pick out another toy you'd like to play with this afternoon?"  
"Okay, Mr. Eider." Eider strode past Drake towards the kitchen and Drake wrote the note letting Raya's mother know where she would be and left it beside the phone. Then he grabbed the red school bag from the hall stand. In the next few moments the bag was full with toys, a lunch box and a drink bottle. He zipped it up.

There was a dizzying flurry, and then he was standing in front of the morgue with the others. "Wait a second!" He looked down at himself. Between his house and the morgue, he was now wearing the black Darkwing Duck costume. He glared at Eider, "that is so wrong on so many levels."  
"No; you're just thinking too hard, Quiver." Eider went to the door and opened it for Quiver and Raya.

* * *

Quiver walked up to the counter of the city morgue. "I'm looking for Launchpad McQuack."  
"Huh, lemme giss, Daeecair Duck." She gazed at Raya.  
Quiver tapped his fingers on the bench. "Pardon me, miss, but people's lives are in the balance!"  
"Okee okee, cule eet." She picked up the phone. "Aahmee." She drawled, "I got meestah meelodramahtic duck out 'ere. Yah beeter come save him beefar he spraeens sometheeng."

Quiver blushed and stepped back from the counter. It was only now as the reality of the receptionist's words sunk in that he realised that he was interfering with Launchpad's private life. How that private life brought him in to a morgue Quiver couldn't guess, but it was his private life none-the-less.

The swinging doors pushed open. "Oh, hey DW, I guessed it was you." Launchpad chuckled, letting the doors swing shut behind him. "What's up?"  
"Uh ..." Quiver back-pedalled. "I was hoping ... if you're not too busy ..."  
"Of course not. Hey, Raya! I'm guessing you've come to spend a couple hours hanging out with your uncle Launchpad till your mum comes to pick you up, huh?" Launchpad smiled grandly.  
Raya bounced up and down on the spot happily. "Yep!"  
"Thank you, Launchpad." Quiver said soberly.  
"No problems, DW, you know that. I'm always here to help."

Drake knelt down and hugged Raya. "Take care, sweetie."  
"Be careful of that orange thing I told you about." She whispered in his ear and then put her tiny hand against his chest. He felt a surge of warmth stretching through his torso. "Go rescue them, daddy."

* * *

The doctor that greeted them at the floor level's reception smiled at Quiver and Eider.

"How's the kid, Karen?" Eider asked. "Is he still ... you know?"  
"Oh, no, sir! As soon as we got O'Duck in to remove a couple of the window panes, the boy came straight back into sight. That sunbeam has an amazing effect on him."

She picked up the tray that was sitting on the reception desk and handed it to Eider. "I'm very curious as to what a plant-vampire hybrid looks like on the inside. He's been soaking up the sun all day." She gazed at the full tray. "I wonder what else that digestive system of his will soak up."  
"What's that you've got there?" Quiver stared at the tray. "Are you feeding him blood?"  
"It's fruit juice." Eider answered quickly. "So you don't know if he'll drink it?"

"No," Karen huffed. "If anyone from medical gets within three metres he makes like a Cheshire cat and disappears."  
"Give the kid a break, Karen." Quiver considered Reginald's new 'formula' for Tarnia. "He probably gets enough of it at home."  
Karen snorted. "Oh, so you agree with small, green and mild, then? It's only a harmless scan! It only takes a minute; I honestly can't see what the fuss is about."  
"Cool off, Karen." Eider cooed.

Karen sighed, folding her arms. "It's just infuriating to be so close to so many answers. Well, come on." Karen took off down the corridor at a breezing pace and they hurried to keep up with her. She stopped outside a door. "One green pensive preschooler right in here, boys." She gestured to the closed door. "I'm going back downstairs where I belong if that'll be all."  
"Thanks, Karen." Eider said.  
She nodded and disappeared from the corridor.

* * *

Quiver opened the door and stepped into the west facing room. Eider followed with the tray.

In the sunbeam was the little plantling Quiver had met in the small hours of that morning. Simon was puffed up into almost a ball shape; all his feather-like leaves stood out on end, working to catch enough sunlight for him. This had the effect of making him look twice his actual size and nearly a foot taller.

The boy turned, looking up at the adults. There was a thoughtful expression on his green face as he considered them. "He's in warehouse number eight on 23rd Street." Simon announced as he flattened his feathers down and folded his vines across his now thin chest.

Eider knelt down next to the plantling so he was eye to eye with him. "We don't know what you eat, Simon."  
"Gosh, thanks!" The child imbibed the bowl of fertilizer mixture and washed it down with the juice.  
"Hungry little scamp." Quiver commented.  
Simon blinked up at Quiver as he returned the glass to the tray. "Doctor Karen wanted to know if I could eat them both." He crossed his vines. "I told her that I'm perfectly healthy." He held out his hands. "See my leaves? I know that you're here to rescue my parents, so I'm not even wilted anymore." He smiled at them. "Thank you very much for that."

"Yes, you're fine, Simon. You're just the right size for your age, too." Eider said warmly.  
Simon narrowed his eyes as Eider suspiciously. "How do you know how old I am?"  
"Um ..." Eider glanced at Quiver. "That is, er ..."

With a huff Quiver ignored Eider and stepped in front of Simon. "We're going to get your parents back, Simon. You saw who abducted them, right?"  
"Yes."  
"Simon, can you tell us what he looked like?"  
"He didn't look like anything, sir."  
"You mean he was invisible?" Quiver raised an eyebrow.  
"No, sir. He wasn't invisible."  
"So, he wasn't a duck or a dog or a ..."  
"Oh! I get it; you mean 'what I saw'. He was a duck. He looked sort of old, too. Um ... he wore an overcoat."

"You said he mentioned vampires. Do you remember what else he said?"  
"He asked me where I was." Simon hung his head. "Mummy told me to hide. I didn't say a word back."  
"That's good that you stayed hidden! That means you're alright, Simon. You're safe, and that's the first thing your parents want."  
The boy stayed stiff and grim despite Quiver's consolation. "I don't like hiding." Simon frowned. "Daddy says I shouldn't have to hide. Daddy says I have just as much right to be here and stand tall in the sun as everyone else."  
"That's very true." Quiver said, fighting back tears. "Gosh, you remind me so much of my little Gosalyn."

Eider stood up with the tray. "Well, so it's a start."  
"No, wait a moment." Quiver considered Simon. "Simon, what did you mean: 'he didn't look like anything'? Can you give us an example ... what do I look like?"  
Simon smiled. "You look like what Darkwing Duck should look like. You're protective of people but you're also dangerous to bad guys. Your heart's broken though." He frowned.

"Uh huh. Okay, well, what does Mr. Eider look like?"  
Simon looked at Eider. "He looks like a very important police officer."  
"Thanks, Simon!" Eider said hurriedly. "We have everything we need." Eider grabbed Quiver's arm and dragged him out of the room.

* * *

In the corridor Quiver waited for Eider as he collected himself.

"This is horrible!" Eider looked at Quiver, "Juan Ducker's kidnapped the Bushroots!"  
"Wait a second; do you mind explaining to me ..."  
"Simon's talking about delta waves. A person doesn't look 'like' anything to a vampire or a plant if their delta waves are blocked, and Ducker stole that technology from us."

"Juan Ducker, the rogue peacekeeper?"  
"Yes."  
"Why would he go after the Bushroots?"  
"Well, it stands to reason. Ducker knows Darkwing Duck's soft on Belladonna. He's tracked her down to use against you."

"Guess he didn't think much of my threat after all."  
"Not your threat, his threat, your counterpart's threat from this universe."  
"What did my doppelganger do, threaten exsanguination?"  
Eider stared at him grimly.

"Oh." Quiver took a breath, summoning his courage. "A minor setback."


	16. A Dark Verse Part 4

_A/N: I have discovered a new colour: "Electric orange. It fizzes for a whole new reason, baby!" _

_Warning: __Vampire content and associated violence. I find it near impossible and it gets rather tedious to write about vampires without ... how should I put it? Doing it properly. It's easy for me to politely edit out things like sex scenes and swearing but violence is integral to what vampires are. All that puts the 'vampire' into vampires. Hopefully you get the big 'dah' factor in what I'm saying because if you do get the 'dah' factor, then nothing that I post should faze you. _

_A/N: Here's another reason the first chapter for Continuum Conundrum was so savage: so as I could have a nice savage climax at the end. This episode? Savage climax. Next episode? Fewer vampires but still a savage climax. _

_A/N: Moving on, why have I been doing this 'story' in episodes? Because I'm exploring the different characters. Besides which, it's bleedingly obvious that I can't write a real story, so why can't I have a bit of fun with what I do write?_

_A/N: Not so many vampires in the next episode, I promise._

_A/N: Another perfect example of how the Grimm Brothers collection and the Disney classics are embedded in my psyche. How did _Beauty and the Beast_ get in here? Yikes! IMO it was an okay movie but still: yikes!_

* * *

**A Dark Verse: Part 4**

* * *

From within the giant bell jar Reginald watched their captor staring back at him from his chair.

Very little sunlight had reached Reginald's spot in the large warehouse and this did not help the plant-duck's mood. "Frankly I don't see why you're keeping us locked in here, Ducker."  
"It's really very simple, doctor. Darkwing has rescued you before, so the likelihood of him rescuing you again is high."

The Slayer's gaze drifted down to Belladonna, asleep on the floor. "You did an impressive job on the she-demon."  
Reginald stared back at him, shocked and indignant. "Th-that's a horrible thing to say. You trapped a vampire in a tiny enclosed space; how can you expect anything different? D-don't you have a heart, Ducker? If you knew anything about how Bella normally is, why; you'd know she wasn't anything like a demon."

"You know; all that reminds me of something green and about knee high to a grass hopper." Juan Ducker raised his hand to show Simon's height if he were standing beside him.  
Reginald growled. "Don't you dare touch him, Ducker! One way or another you'll be duck soup if you do."

"Oh, Reggie, Reggie," Juan mocked in a falsetto. Then he scowled. "What have you done, Bushroot? Breeding with vampire genes?"  
"Something very significant, I'm sure." Reginald said boldly. "I do feel that way when I look at Simon."  
"Significant! Now there's a word for it." Juan shook his head. "You don't know the damage one of those can do when they're fully grown. I can tell you it really is quite 'significant'!" The Slayer huffed. "But I guess it's beyond your comprehension; seeing as how you're a hardened criminal."

"I'm not a criminal anymore." Reginald sighed, tired of repeating himself. "I haven't been since I met Bella."

"Well, I'm not so sure." Ducker's eyes fell back to the peacefully sleeping Belladonna. "A few of those moves had to have been illegal."  
Reginald blushed a deeper shade of green. "You didn't exactly give me any other options."

* * *

The room echoed with a familiar long-awaited dark voice, interrupting their conversation.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night."

Ducker jumped up.

"I'm making no ambit claims here."

Ducker was ready with the semi-automatic crossbow in his left hand.

"I am Darkwing Duck!"

Reginald Bushroot called out. "Be careful, Quiver, he's got a ..."  
"Crossbow?"  
"Yeah ... How did you know?"  
"Oh, I know everything, Bushroot." Quiver laughed maniacally. "Like what's in his other hand is his real weapon that he intends to render me helpless with."  
Reginald gulped. "I didn't know that." He stared at Ducker's closed fist. It was glowing orange.

"Come on out and play, Darkwing. I'm all alone here."

"I'm sorry you're alone."  
"Oh, I bet. All vampires are evil. That allows you to kill indiscriminately."  
"Do you really think that's what I ...?"  
"Never, Quiver!" Reginald exclaimed. He shuddered, not wanting to think about what would have happened in his life if not for Darkwing's interference. "I don't believe it. Not for one moment. You do what you have to do."

Ducker raised the crossbow and fired into the darkness of the warehouse. The sound of a frighteningly rapid fwipping filled the air for an entire two seconds as the crossbow fired a rapid series of arrows.

* * *

There was a grunt of pain on the other side of the room.

"Getting a trifle slow, are you, Darkwing? Must be that witch blood you sucked on for breakfast before coming."

There was a metal chink near Ducker's feet and a cloud of billowing smoke surrounded Ducker momentarily. Quiver silently approached the other side of the glass prison.  
"Is she alright?" Quiver frowned, looking down at Bella in concern.  
"No. It's because of the jar. It ..."

A bolt of orange electricity managed to arch itself over and around the jar, hitting Quiver. He screamed and crumpled to the ground, motionless.  
"Ducker!" Bushroot panicked as the Slayer made his way around the giant bell jar. "Ducker, don't kill him with a stake, oh my gosh, no. He's not a vampire, he's mortal, he's from another universe ..." The mallard knelt down beside the masked vigilante's still form. "Ducker, listen to me!" Ducker raised the stake and plunged it.

The plant-duck screamed in horror.

* * *

_A/N: I'm having trouble with getting this Part right, so I've split it even more because life is always easier when you take smaller chunks. It's the cheeziest place to put a chapter break; isn't it great?_


	17. A Dark Verse Part 5

_Warning: (yet again) for vampire content. In the next episode I'll have a whole different assortment of disturbing things going on, so stay tuned._

* * *

**A Dark Verse: Part 5**

* * *

Part Five

At the very last moment, Quiver regained consciousness and managed to move two inches to the left. A shout of pain screamed through him. "You ... missed ..." Quiver gasped, and with every last ounce of strength, fisted his hand and punched Ducker away. "... My heart."  
He got up, ripping the stake away from his chest. In the next moment he realised he had made a mistake. He coughed and blood splattered from his mouth, telling him he'd pierced a lung. He threw the blood covered stake away and kicked the fresh one out of Ducker's hand. "Pickled and pricked and skewered. What am I? An olive?"  
Ducker raised his crossbow and Quiver web-kicked him against the glass. Ducker crumpled.  
"You don't get it ..." Quiver rasped for breath and coughed up more blood. Maybe he also shouldn't have done that web kick, because now the injury from the arrow was ragged as well and he felt fresh blood dripping onto his feet. On the other hand, he'd caught Ducker.  
'I don't ordinarily introduce myself as much as I've been doing lately.' He hooked the handcuffs on Ducker. "I am Quiverwing Duck."

Quiver searched through Ducker's pockets. "Aha!" He coughed again. "Here's the remote control to the jar." He pressed a button and nothing happened. Then he pressed the next button and the jar began to rise.  
In a rushing blur the released woman slammed into him. Quiver went sprawling backwards, losing his grip on Ducker as he did.

Quiver's head spun as he hit the ground. 'Bushroot's wife ...' he struggled against her for a moment, feeling his strength failing him. He vaguely realised as he struggled for each breath that he was dying already without the vampire's help.

His attacker raised her hands and he heard the sound of fabric ripping. Another shout of pain arched across his injured torso. Amidst the swamping darkness he saw his daughter watching him with her arms folded and an expectant look on her face. 'Come on, dad, people need you, you can't let them down.'

Somehow it was becoming less painful to breath, and slowly he decided that he wasn't going to die from this experience after all.

The vampire raised her head and adjusted her position over him. She grabbed his beak and forced it wide open into a deep kiss, desperately lapping at the blood coating his mouth. His gag reflex caused her to retreat, much to his relief. The vampire then set to sucking on the blood saturating his clothing. After a few more moments, she let go of him.

The vampire swallowed, licking her beak and put her fingers against his chest injury in some sort of contemplation. At her touch, the pain eased into nothing.

* * *

"Quiver, are you alright?" Bushroot knelt down beside them, wrapping his vines possessively around the woman.

Quiver stared at Bushroot for a moment, somewhat incredulous at everything that had just happened. Add to it the genuinely concerned look on the plant-duck's face and there was no doubt that Quiver was in another universe. "Yeah ..."

Quiver's brain finally caught up to the situation and looked around. "Wait, where's Ducker?"  
"Oh, uh, he left."  
"He left!" Quiver repeated, squawking in shock. He felt his head start spinning as he struggled to get up. In a hurry, Bushroot unhooked his vines from Belladonna and fumbled to help Quiver to get on his feet.

Quiver pulled away from Bushroot angrily. "Why didn't you stop him?" He quacked in frustration. "We could've had him safe in jail!"  
Bushroot drew back, startled by Quiver's outburst. "I ... that is ... i-it didn't ... Quiver," the hybrid's voice took on a pleading note, "I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I'm sorry."  
"D'oh ..." Quiver rubbed his face. "It's not your fault, it's my fault; I should've hooked him to a handrail or something."  
"Oh my gosh ..." Bushroot whispered, his eyes opened wide in horror. "He-he's gonna come back, isn't he? For you, for Simon, for Qui-for Quiverwing. I-I didn't even think of that." He blinked and tears fell from his eyes. "This is horrible!"  
Quiver felt a surge of warmth for the plant-duck and put his hand on Bushroot's vine. "I wanted to catch him, Bushy, because my cuffs aren't as lethal as my counterpart's tactics." He recalled the expression on Eider's face when he spoke of the local Darkwing's ultimatum to Ducker. "When Darkwing comes back ..."

On that line of thought Quiver found himself staring at Belladonna's beak. "Where are they? Your fangs are gone."  
"They retract." Reginald answered for his wife. He nuzzled her cheek with his beak. She purred back at him, closing her fiery eyes.  
"So you really can't tell." Quiver quickly looked away from them, slightly embarrassed to be watching this display of affection. "Morgana was right; anyone could be a vampire."

Quiver put his hand to his ripped clothes, recalling how a few minutes ago he'd been dying of a mortal wound. "Thank you, Belladonna."  
"She's not awake." Bushroot explained. "I mean; she looks like she's awake but she's not. She's all instinct at the moment. You know: blood, hungry, safe, friend, mate."  
Quiver considered all things. "Awake or not, she did a good job of being hungry and yet not ki-."  
Belladonna sprang forwards and hugged Quiver tightly.  
"Belladonna!" Quiver struggled away, startled at the unexpected show of affection. He closed his eyes in shock. "The way you just hugged me, it was like ..." like The Quiverwing Quack had hugged him back in Megavolt's lab.  
"Family." Bushroot finished for him. "Bear hugs and vampire kisses. We're all family here." Bushroot smiled softly, coiling his viney arms closely around Belladonna.  
It was apparent to Quiver that the most significant thing he knew about Belladonna was that she was Reginald's companion and he was very fond of her. "Will she be okay? I mean ..." Quiver considered Reginald Bushroot's desperate search for a sentient companion, trying to find the sublime difference between her and Spike '... conversational?"  
"After she gets a bit of sleep. Is Simon okay?"  
"Yes. He's back at Hamil Corp ..." Quiver hesitated. He had to say something. "Your Simon is a brave kid."  
"I'm trying to teach him to be a good kid!" Bushroot fretted, wiping from his blue eyes tears that suddenly sprang up. "He didn't do what he was told last night. Now th-that wacko Ducker knows about him! You ..." Bushroot gulped, shaking. "You didn't see the look in his eye when he talked about Simon to me." He hid his face in his leafy hands.

Quiverwing put his hand on Bushroot's shoulder. "Then I guess that while you're teaching him to be a 'good' kid, you should teach him how to duck too. He is a good kid, but he also needs to be a tough kid. He'd better learn how to fight with his fists."  
"Wouldn't that make a bigger problem if he turns evil?" Bushroot asked hoarsely.

Quiver stopped and stared at Bushroot and raised an eyebrow. "How can you possibly say that? He's just a duckling!"  
Bushroot looked up at him with a defiant look on his face. "He's a plant-duckling, more specifically a vampire-plant-duckling." He corrected. "And all my experiments turned evil. You had to stop every single one of them!"  
"I don't recall Spike being evil in my universe."  
Bushroot looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Quiver shrugged. "So you don't know why they turned evil?"  
Bushroot shrugged. "... Because I was a criminal and therefore a bad influence on their behaviour as they used me as a role model?"  
"I'm sure that fact didn't help ..." Quiverwing mused, "but they simply weren't stable. Your emotional equilibrium is your shortcoming, Bushy. A shaking tree drops more leaves."  
"Oh, great, thanks."

Quiver shook his head. "Simon's been under a lot of stress and pressure and check me if I'm wrong, but his emotional control does seem better than yours." He grabbed Bushroot's hand. "And that's a compliment, Bushy. That means you've got to be doing something right." Quiver let go. "Probably the best thing you can do is to guide him, teach him and just be there with him."  
Bushroot took a breath, staring back at Quiver.

"So what you're saying is that you can't live the rest of your life broken by several failed experiments? Or even one mistake?"  
"Hang on here." Quiver put his hands on his hips, "are you preaching to me, Doctor Reginald Bushroot?" He asked suspiciously.  
Bushroot rolled his eyes. "I only meant to remind you. They're just so wonderful to hold. And if there's one thing I know about Darkwing Duck it's-."

The air around them began to warp. "What's that?" Bushroot looked around nervously.  
Quiver looked around too. "Uh-oh; I remember this. It happened right before I-."

In a flash, the crime-fighter was gone.

* * *

_A/N: Argh! I have scanned through Crisis on Infinite Darkwings and I have amended some of my earlier posts. Not all of them. I kinda need to get some sleep right now._

_A/N: Thank you, Joey the Ripper for your assistance in helping get this scene sorted out. _


	18. Launchpad McQuack

**Launchpad McQuack**

* * *

Reginald Bushroot stepped out of warehouse eight with Belladonna, heading back to Hamil Corp to collect Simon. They'd only been walking for a few minutes when he heard a dark echoing voice all around them.

"I am the terror that hunts in the night."

"Hunts?" Reginald frowned, calmly looking around. "Are you a vampire?"

"I am Darkwarrior Duck."

Reginald took a step back as a large shiny black thing was thrust into his face. "A missile launcher?" He refocused his eyes, looking at the purple caped duck with the spikes on him. "This is ludicrous. I haven't done anything."  
"Double-homicide-resisting-arrest-kidnapping-willful-endangerment-theft-destruction-of-property-co-conspiracy-counterfeiting ... shall I go on?"  
"That's-not-me-anymore!"  
"I recall Morgana Macawber tried that old line on me." Darkwarrior tsked. "Once a criminal, always a criminal, Bushroot."  
"Not!" Reginald countered, his temper flaring. 'No, wait a minute. That's not my temper; that's his temper.' Reginald rubbed his head. 'He's the one that's emotional here, not me.' He reasoned. 'But if he's feeling like that it can only mean one thing!' He gulped.

* * *

Reginald considered their surroundings, doing a mental scan of the area for backup. 'Warehouses, docks ... where are all the trees?' He widened the mental search and found a listening mind. 'Help! I've got a Darkwarrior here about to commit herbicide on me!'  
'I'm on it, keep him talking, Bushy.'

"Off home, Bushroot? Is that where you thought you were going?"

Beside him, Belladonna let out a quiet warning growl, making Reginald straighten. He looked at the weapon in the Mallard's grip again. Of course, he was staring at the weapon of a serial killer, passionate about his job. "Have ... you got weed-killer loaded in that thing?"  
"Yep."  
"Seriously?"  
"It's my special blend that I used last time on you." Darkwarrior looked around. "These streets aren't exactly tree-lined, are they, plant-scum?"  
"So ... you're thinking of using it again?"  
"Oh, I'm gonna use it." The mallard grinned, and with his glowing red eyes he looked completely demonic, "already locked and loaded. I just wanted to enjoy catching you again."  
"Well, I've got some news for you ... Dark ... warrior!" Reginald pointed at the duck's weapon in disapproval. "This makes you a criminal!"  
"You've got to be tough to get the job done to cleanse St Canard of the criminal element." He raised the weapon at Reginald. "Anything else you want to add for your closing statement?"

"Yeah." Reginald crossed his vines. "I ... have just ... one ... thing to say." He dragged out the moment for as long as he could.  
"Well?" Darkwarrior prompted in annoyance.  
"The thing I want to say to you is: Good ... night."

A gas grenade landed at Darkwarrior's feet, spouting out a cloud of sleeping gas. Reginald dove out of Darkwarrior's front view and watched from the street as the purple nightmare collapsed into unconsciousness. The plant-duck sighed in relief and stood up. Belladonna was standing exactly where she had been. In her unconscious state the sleeping gas had no effect.

"Oh." Reginald sighed in relief at his rescuer, "thank you."  
"You're lucky I listen when children tell me things." Launchpad said, coming up to stand beside the sleeping menace.

* * *

"Where's Quiverwing Duck?" The air ace pulled out a pair of handcuffs and hooked them on Darkwarrior's wrists.  
"I think he got pulled into another universe again. Will those handcuffs really hold this guy?"  
"He's out for the moment. Once we get back there'll be no problem containing him. What goes for a vampire will go for him."  
Reginald held his hand out in offering. "Let me help."  
Launchpad shrugged. 'Sounds more like a demand than an offer.'  
"Launchpad, if this guy gets loose again people are going to start dying." Reginald shook his head. "If you only knew what's in this guy's head. I-I mean you-you don't wanna know. And besides, now we're short a Darkwing Duck again and-and Juan Ducker ... my kids ..."  
"Alright, buddy, you win!" Launchpad chuckled, "help me get him into the rat-catcher." Reginald took his feet and together they hauled him up to the next street where the rat-catcher stood parked.

Reginald turned for a moment to Belladonna. "I'm alright now, Bella. Get Simon; get our son home." She didn't respond, and just came and hugged him again.  
Launchpad stiffened. "What's the matter with Donna?"  
Bushroot read the concern and fear in Launchpad's mind. "She's alright; she's just sleep walking at the moment."  
"She's not hungry, is she?" Launchpad asked nervously. "Coz those two things kinda go hand in hand when it comes to v-vampires."  
"She was hungry but she's alright now." Reginald insisted. "It's okay."

"Sorry, you know, just ..." Launchpad stood there, unmoving beside the rat-catcher, still tensely watching Belladonna.  
"He's gonna wake up." Reginald hissed, pointing nervously to Darkwarrior in the sidecar. "Let's just fix this guy so he won't hurt any more people, huh?" He grabbed his wife's hand and brought her to sit in the side-car beside the sleeping mallard.  
"Good thinking!" Launchpad instantly felt much better and he got onto the driver's seat. Reginald sat behind him.

"If he wakes up and starts causing trouble, your wife can eat him for us." Launchpad revved the engine and they shot forward into the night.

* * *

_A/N: "It's a very scientific principle called: 'Thinking Positive!' " No question about it, when you need a positive influence in your life, call Launchpad McQuack._


	19. A King Verse Part 1

_A/N: Credits are at the end of this chapter, please refer once posted._

* * *

**A King Verse **

* * *

**Part One: ****The Final Ingredient**

* * *

Phantom Duck woke to find himself bound and gagged, trussed to a table.  
"Thank you, Reginald."  
"Oh, no problems, Morgana. Anytime."  
'Morgana?' Phantom tried to move to see her, but he couldn't.

Finally she stepped over and peered down at him. "At last I can complete my potion." She drew her long supple fingers against his cheek, making him shudder. He wasn't sure why, but today the very touch of her seemed to send sparks of electricity up to his brain, overloading his senses.

He felt a sudden shock of pain as she plucked a feather from his head. The witch raised it up to examine it in the light. "With this feather I can complete my potion and finally be rid of my rival." With that she left the room.

Phantom blinked the tears of pain from his eyes and worked his hands out of his gloves to get free of the bindings.

* * *

He heard a bang in the distance and interpreted that it was the front door. Now there came the sound of a struggling in the hallway. Phantom quickly put his gloves back on and slipped his hands under the now-loose ropes.

"Mum?" Piped a female voice sounded out with an unmistakably familiar quaver in it. "I got the gutless lackey you wanted!"  
"What on earth do you mean, Gosalyn?" Morgana's voice called back, approaching the room.

There were footsteps into the room. "He-ey ..." The girl's voice had a pensive edge. "Who's that?"  
"Oh, no. There appears to be a mix up." Morgana came and pulled the gag off him. "Who are you?"  
Phantom jumped up, satisfactorily scattering the two kidnappers and turning the balance of power away from them. He wrapped his cape around him and brought it back in a flourish as he introduced himself. "I am the tenor that sings in the-." He stared at the duckling in shock. "Uh ... night?"

She was his daughter, but yet she wasn't. She was about twelve, standing next to a civilian tied up with rope. 'Not Scarlet ...' "Gosalyn?" He frowned in confusion. "Why are you kidnapping people?" Then he pointed at Morgana; "and more importantly why are you two wearing ..." he shuddered; "matching peaches and cream outfits? One of you I could tolerate dressed in that colour scheme but ..." he gulped. "Suddenly I don't feel so well."

"Geez." The duckling snorted, "Don't be in a hurry to go outside then. Peaches and cream has been the 'in' thing since forever."  
"D'oh." Morgana said faintly, holding her hand to her brow. "My potion is useless."  
"Hey, hey-hey!" Phantom quacked, glaring at her. "I am a very useful person." He crossed his arms. "Just give me time to prove it."

"Gosh you are arrogant!" Morgana reprimanded him. "I needed a feather not just from anyone but from Drakey Mallard."  
"W-why m-m-me?" The harmless civilian standing near the doorway stuttered, drawing attention to himself. The familiar voice curdled Phantom's stomach even more than the peaches and cream and he looked again ... at Drakey Mallard.

Drakey's voice was Phantom's own, only raised up high and smothered in terror.

Never. Phantom Duck would never be that fear driven person again. "I-am-the-tenor-that-sings-in-the-night!" He insisted to his replica. "I haven't got the luxury to be afraid. I am Phantom Duck!"  
"Th-there's n-no need to be b-b-bad tempered." The civilian whimpered. "Wh-what'd I d-d-do to y-you?"  
"Phantom Duck?" Gosalyn laughed, making him turn to her. "Gee, that sure is a cute name. And I love your outfit too, it's like Indiana Quack meets Count Duckula. What's your line: hustling cards or wrangling crocodiles?"  
Phantom looked down at his black outfit suddenly feeling self-conscious. He straightened his cape and his fedora hat with his gloved fingers, collecting himself. "It's not supposed to be a 'cute' name, young lady; it's-supposed-to-be-scary! I am the poisoned dart that flies silent through the air, I am ..."  
"Yeah, yeah, we got it, chill out. Sit down before you hurt yourself, bro."

Gosalyn turned away from him. "How long will it take to remake the potion, mum?"  
"I don't ..." Morgana sighed. "It's not like Reginald to find the wrong person."  
"What is this potion for, anyway?" Phantom crossed his arms, trying to get comfortable again in the midst of being beside himself like this.  
"It's to bring d-down The K-K-King, isn't it?" Drakey stuttered.  
"Him again? I thought I fixed that wagon already!" Phantom rolled his eyes. "So what's the potion do, Morgana?"  
"Nothing useful now. We needed Drake Mallard's feather, and I've used yours instead. I haven't got a prayer to stopping The King now." She sighed. "I suppose I could try again in the next blue moon."

Phantom blinked. "You ... you're trying to stop a criminal?" He sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. I though you girls wanted to take over the world or something."  
"With a coward's feather?" Gosalyn snorted. "Get real, spectre-dude. By the power invested in that feather we'd only get ourselves run up the old patriotic flagpole."

"I am not a coward! I am Phantom Duck!" He brandished his cape, infuriated. "You-may-not-have-heard-of-me-yet-but-you-soon-will!" Phantom took a breath, keeping his temper as well as he could. He turned and stared at Drakey. "I wanna ask you one question, punk." He pointed at his terrorized duplicate.  
"Wh-wh-wh-ye-yes...?" Drakey gulped under the pressure, shaking.  
Phantom stepped up beside him. "Do you wanna stop this King?"  
"Yes!" Drakey squawked. "But I c-can't do it. It's t-too d-d-dangerous."  
"Yeah, well, so am I!" Phantom proclaimed and then pointed at Drakey. "I'm lethal! But you're still here, ain't yeh?"  
"Y-yes?"  
"Then that's got to count for something because you irritate me to heck!"

"So now that I've got everybody's attention," Phantom Duck smiled at each of them, "get your potion ready, Morgana. There's gonna be a few changes around St. Canard."  
"You're one far out cat." Gosalyn folded her arms.  
" 'Far out cat'?"  
"Way out, duck. It's obvious you need help." She paused, "I think I could conjure up a straight jacket in your size." She raised her hand and Phantom Duck dove behind the table as the hex flew over his head.  
"Or maybe you could just keep an eye on me?" He chuckled nervously at her.  
"Oh, well that also sounds like a good idea." Gosalyn put her hands on her hips.

Phantom got back up and came to stand in front of Gosalyn, gazing into her sharp green eyes. "Perhaps we could be teammates?" He offered hopefully. "Together we can cream those crooks; they won't stand a chance!" He hesitated, "but maybe not dressed like that."  
"Uh, no thanks, ghoully. I think I'd prefer the type of work where I actually get paid."  
"That's my daughter." Morgana beamed at Gosalyn and Phantom felt for the first time like he didn't belong there with them.

"Check them out, Mum." Gosalyn slouched back against the doorframe, her eyes roving between Phantom and Drakey in front of her.  
Phantom looked at Drakey to find him staring back. "What're you looking at, you gutless worm?" Phantom snarled at his duplicate. "I may be your genetic double from another universe but I sure ain't no dorky wimp like you!"  
"Y-you don't n-need to be so c-c-c ..." Drakey swallowed, "upset about it."  
"D'you think the potion will still work, mum?"  
"I ... I don't know." Morgana stepped closer to compare the two mallards. "I can see how Bushroot made the mistake from the photograph I gave him."  
Phantom clenched his beak and grabbed Drakey's arm, "if you two ladies will excuse us for a while," he interrupted, "I have a white sheet in dire need of a pair of scissors and a good dirt dragging." He reviewed Drakey in utter disdain. "Boy; is my work ever cut out for me."

He turned them to shadow, swirling out of the doorway and out, away from Macawber chateau.


	20. A King Verse Part 2

**The King Verse**

* * *

**Part Two: The Electric Green Orchestra 1**

* * *

As if taking a trip with a panicky passenger wasn't bad enough, once they got to the bridge tower Phantom Duck found there wasn't a vacancy.

The occupants of the tower in this universe ... were plants.

The greenery crowded in all the places that the light reached and great mirror contraptions hung from the roof bringing more light into the once-shadowy place. Phantom Duck heard the sound of a heavy bucket land on the stone floor. He looked over to an embankment of foliage that hid the source of the sound.

"No-no, you can't bring him up here!" Bushroot's voice quacked from behind the scenery.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't know ..." Phantom Duck watched the plant-duck hybrid appear. "Why aren't you at the greenhouse, Bushroot?"  
"Are you for real?" Bushroot snorted, advancing on the two mallards. "Perhaps ... you ... would care to explain that one to him, Drakey Mallard?"  
"The King?" Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Why would-?"  
"He doesn't have a greenhouse anymore, Phantom Duck." Drakey explained quietly, "Cecile destroyed it."  
"Yeah, Drakey." Bushroot said rather unimpressed. "Your boss. And up till five minutes ago, he didn't know where I'd moved to, so The King didn't come around roughing me up anymore."  
"I won't tell him!" Drakey squawked urgently. "I don't tell him anything if I don't have to! Please! I only do what I'm told. I promise I won't tell!"  
"Humph. Well ... okay." Bushroot shrugged and then smiled.

* * *

Bushroot ruminated. "I remember that I used to be a wash-out like you, Drakey."

"You ... used to?" Drakey looked at Bushroot in awe. "But you changed? More than just turning into a ... w-w..."  
"Plant-duck hybrid. Or mutant; whatever. Yes. It's simple," Bushroot put his leafy hand on Drakey's shoulder. "You just need to change the way you think about the guy. He isn't the centre of your world; you are. You've got to tell yourself that you need to come first." Bushroot smiled, beaming with personal pride. "When I face people like that I tell them that I don't need no-one to tell me what to do. I know I'm on my own and there's nothing they can do so I don't need no one like them, to tell me what to do."  
"No-no!" Drakey squawked, trying to hush him, "you mustn't! Th-that's black-market music!"  
"Black-market music? I think we're far enough away from our next door neighbours up here, Drakey." Phantom Duck raised an eyebrow. "How did this 'black-market music' situation happen, Bushroot?"  
"The music genre gap means the war is never won." He sighed. "All of St. Canard's radio stations play the same music-oh, what I wouldn't give to play some nice baroque for my friends ..." He pointed accusingly at Drakey, "but your friends confiscated all my CDs."

"I am sorry." Drakey blinked at Reginald Bushroot. "Could you teach me these songs you know? Please?"  
Phantom Duck crossed his arms. Reginald Bushroot teaching his alter ego personal power?  
"Sure." Bushroot smiled in answer. "We could even be friends."  
"Oh, I'd like that." Drakey smiled, then blinked, "but, uh, is it safe?"

"You play life safe and that's not living! Keep it up and you'll never live at all!" Phantom Duck snarled at Drakey.

"The grumpy guy does have a point, Drakey." Bushroot conceded to Drakey, "I mean; I much prefer being a plant and I wouldn't be if I didn't take the chance with that experiment."

* * *

Bushroot moved past Drakey and fixed his eyes on Phantom Duck. "Who are you?"  
"I am Phantom Duck. I am -."  
"Yeah, okay, so what's your plan? I mean, I know Morgana's plan, but what's your song? Maybe I can help."  
"St. Canard needs someone to save it from the criminal under-element. Someone who is like Phantom Duck but who in fact is not Phantom Duck."  
"Are you ... g-going somewhere?"  
Phantom Duck eyed Drakey Mallard. "Once this King business is resolved I want to go back home, yes."  
"Well, okay if you think th-that's b-best."  
"But first I'm going to help Morgana bring down this villainous vocalist ... again." He rolled his eyes. "So then what about the others, Bushroot? Are they good guys or bad guys?"  
"I beg your pardon?" Bushroot blinked. "What others?"  
"Let's start with Liquidator."  
Bushroot shrugged. "Who?"  
"Okay ... have you heard of Megavolt or Quackerjack?"  
Bushroot opened his eyes up wide. "Do you mean Megawatt?"


	21. A King Verse Part 3

_A/N: Please refer to the end of this chapter (once posted) for references._

* * *

**The King Verse**

* * *

**Part Three: The Electric Green Orchestra 2**

* * *

Phantom Duck stepped into the club after Bushroot and looked around the square tables. "So where is your electrified rodent friend?"

Bushroot pointed to the stage and the band that was thundering out the sound of hard rock guitar and drum beats and the sound of a woman's voice.

_"... Just dance, gonna be okay, spin that record baby just dance ..."_

"Mega-watt?" The image of the electrified Elmo Sputterspark with his grandfather's guitar in his hands transfixed Phantom Duck. He wore a blue monk's robe to match his yellow rubber gloves and shoes. His long frizzy orange hair was plaited into submission.

Bushroot put his leafy hand on Phantom's shoulder after a moment. "Hey, loosen up, buddy. We're all friends in this place." The plant-duck advised him warmly. "Let's sit over here." Bushroot took a seat at a nearby table and the mallard joined him, sitting so he had a view of the stage ... and Megawatt.

* * *

Megawatt silenced his guitar, looking for a moment at the blonde duck who was the voice of his act. The rodent then started strumming in a ballad fashion.

The oddly familiar woman was staring off in Phantom Duck's general direction. Phantom looked around him and realised it was Bushroot opposite him who had grabbed her attention.

_"I died so many years ago_  
_But you can make me feel like it isn't so_  
_Why you come to be with me, I think I finally know_  
_You're scared ashamed of what you feel_  
_And you can't tell the ones you love_  
_You know they couldn't deal_  
_Whisper in a dead girl's ear doesn't make it real ..._

_That's great, but I don't wanna play_  
_Coz being with you touches me more than I can say_  
_Since I'm only dead to you_  
_I'm saying stay away_  
_And let me rest in peace_

_Let me rest in peace_  
_Let me get some sleep_  
_Let me take my love and bury it_  
_In a hole six foot deep_  
_I can lay my body down_  
_But I can't find my sweet release_  
_So let me rest in peace_

_You know, you got a willing slave_  
_And you just love to play the thought_  
_That you might misbehave_  
_Until you do_  
_I'm telling you_  
_Stop visiting my grave_  
_And let me rest in peace_

_I know, I should go,_  
_But I follow you_  
_Like a girl possessed_  
_There's a traitor here,_  
_Beneath my breast_  
_And it hurts me more_  
_Than you've ever guessed_  
_When my heart does beat_  
_It near breaks my chest_  
_But I can see_  
_You're unimpressed_  
_So leave me be_

_And let me rest in peace_  
_Let me get some sleep_  
_Let me take my love and bury it_  
_In a hole six foot deep_  
_I can lay my body down_  
_But I can't find my sweet release_  
_Let me rest in peace_

_Why won't you_  
_Let me rest in peace?"_

As the last strains finally died away the woman spoke into the microphone. "We're going to take a fifteen minute break, guys. Don't nobody go nowhere coz we'll be right back."

The blonde and Megawatt with his full head of hair came down off the stage. Just in case they hadn't noticed him already, Bushroot waved at them as they approached.

Bushroot nodded at Megawatt's female singer cohort and sat down at the table.  
"Uh, Phantom Duck, this is Megawatt and ... Belladonna Porter." Bushroot shrugged uncomfortably.  
"Megav-watt, you're a genius inventor!" Phantom nearly exploded. "Why are you standing around on a stage for?"  
"I enjoy it, d'uh." Megawatt rolled his eyes which reminded Phantom Duck instantly of his red headed daughter. "Playing in the black market pays better than doing the electrical circuit." Megawatt shrugged. "We're all sick of the old school in here. These people wanna hear something different and they're happy to pay for it."

Phantom considered this information. Was law and order really so demented in this strange universe? "Has The King ever caught you?"  
"A few times." Megawatt frowned. "Like that'd ever stop me for very long. I'd make him sizzle like spit on a griddle if I could ..." He sighed, "that traitor."  
"He means Cecile." Belladonna advised.  
"I tried to rescue her from The King once. Let's just say she's not his prisoner." Megawatt sighed in defeat. "So what's up? Who's the stiff?"  
"Phantom's cool, Megs, he's backing Macawber."  
Megawatt's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is he?"  
"What's ... up?" Phantom watched Megawatt's electrical field surging.  
The rat leaned in closer towards Phantom. "That's great you're on the dark side of the tune, but lemme give you a nickel's worth of free advice. Don't touch Morgana. Don't even try." Megawatt sparked his fingers threateningly. "Get it?"  
"Got it." Phantom stared at Megawatt feeling shocked without the need for an electrical charge. "I just wanna get The King and then find a way to get home to my wife."

* * *

"You're not from around here, Phantom? Where's home?" Belladonna asked.  
"I don't know." Phantom grumbled. "Some other universe."  
"Cool!" Megawatt's mood instantly lifted. "You must have gone through one of those transdimensional corridors! What was it like? Oh, I've wondered but yet never experienced going through one for myself. Did you have a vehicle?"  
"No. It just happened."  
"Subspace travel theoretically would put a bit of pressure on your unprotected synaptic relay functions ... it must've given you a bit of a headache."

"Megs, you're geeking again." Belladonna shook her head at Megawatt in warning. "Phantom doesn't understand that stuff."  
"Somehow I figure it's not so easy to get back to as to just jump into a cake this time." Phantom Duck obliged the rat's curiosity. "It really wasn't fun, I can tell you that. I was unconscious when Bushroot picked me up." Phantom confessed. "So ... uh, how'd you and Morgana meet?"  
"We-ell ... after I blew up my old high school, I got rather bored. Then I found this place hosting black market gigs and thought I'd join the cause. Not long after that I experienced my first raid. It was then that I came to realise that despite my ability to channel my electrostatic charge into a potentially lethal weapon I still didn't quite have the edge I required in order to properly keep The King at bay. As it so happens it was that evening as I was hiding out from The King at Joe's Pizzeria when she came in." Megawatt sighed. "Morgana was conducting market research on pizza toppings when some jerk put money into that rotten two-timing juke box and played the song she'd been hearing everywhere she went for three weeks." His eyes had a faraway stare. "And 'I Got A Woman' reminded me of The King and Cecile. It was love at first meltdown."

* * *

"That reminds me ..." Megawatt narrowed his eyes. "What exactly is your musical alliance, Phantom?"  
"I'm a bit eclectic, to tell the truth." Phantom coughed politely. "But I do prefer show tunes. It ... reminds me of ... a friend that I lost a long time ago." He down-turned his eyes.

Megawatt sat back with a look of surprise. "Duck, that's some far out stuff. Can you sing 'Stairway to Heaven'?"  
"Sure, but how about 'High Voltage'?"  
Megawatt sat back, "whoa, dude." He breathed. "That's righteous. We're like ... brothers."  
"I know." Phantom grinned, going with the lingo. "Doesn't it sound?" He leaned forwards in curiosity. "So this is all black-market stuff?"  
"Yep. They don't play nothin' but the straight dulcet tones of rock n roll on the radio. You can't buy this stuff here; it's banned in St. Canard period. This here is what we got: Ye Olde Bootleg. We've got a weathervane with a super pickup at the top of this building. It's tuned into Duckburg radio so we're up and transcribing the latest. Then we've got you, me, a couple of amps and my grandpa's old electric guitar to make it real as."  
"I'm sure your grandpa would be proud you were being so inventive with his guitar."

Megawatt nodded at Belladonna. "I never did so well until our vamp queen graced us with her presence."  
"Vamp-vampires?" Phantom blinked at her. "You're a vampire in this universe too?"  
Belladonna slowly leaned forwards towards him, her eyes on his neck. "There's ten minutes before our next set. Why don't we go out back ..." She smiled. Her teeth were perfectly straight. "For a bite?" She licked her beak.  
"While that's always an interesting experience for me ..." Phantom shook away from the dazed feeling that seemed to come over him whenever this particular vampire fixed her attention on him. "I do have a job to do in this universe. I need to be able to think straight to take The King down, and I can't take the chance that you'll get excited and take too much."

Belladonna sat back with a sigh, glancing dejectedly at Bushroot before turning to Megawatt. "I'll see you in a bit, Megs, I've gotta hunt." She stood up and drifted away from the table.  
"It's nice meeting you, Phantom." Megavolt stood up and headed for the restrooms.

* * *

Phantom Duck noticed Bushroot staring morbidly after Belladonna and felt his feathers prickle in response. He hooked his foot under Bushroot's chair leg beneath the table and with a grunt he flipped Bushroot's chair over, crashing it and its occupant noisily on the floor. "Bushroot!" He stood up, putting his hands on the table and leaned over to see the other. "You ... poor unfortunate fool! You like her so why don't you go after her!" He exclaimed down to him loudly.

Bushroot blinked up in shock at Phantom. "Belladonna's not ... I'm not ... That is ... when Rhoda ... it didn't ... I know that was a long time ago but ..."  
Phantom slapped his face in anguish. "Deep down you're a moron in any universe. Tell me what do I have to do to get yeh outta here?" He twisted around the table and grabbed Bushroot's vine, dragging him up to a stand.

_"There must be something worth living for_  
_There must be something worth trying for_  
_Even some things worth dying for!_  
_And if one plant can stand tall_  
_There must be some hope for us all_  
_Somewhere, somewhere, in the spirit of St. Canard."_

Phantom gave Bushroot a persistent shove towards the exit. "Go on, Bushroot. I tell you once and you know it's true; she's crazy for you. And she'll be round the front." Phantom advised. "This is the clubbing district so she won't have gone too far."  
Bushroot smiled nervously at him. "Wh-what do I say?"  
"I dunno." Phantom shrugged. "Sing your song. That's all people ever seem to do in this universe."


	22. A King Verse Part 4

**THE KING VERSE**

* * *

**Part Four: The Game Plan**

* * *

Unlike back in Phantom Duck's own universe, petty crime here was an easy clean up because even though The King had them in a chokehold, the police department was still functioning. The vigilante came back to Morgana's place feeling unspent.

Morgana had her potion that would rid her of her 'rival', so she was quite fine without him. Bushroot had taken up Phantom's job of being Drakey's tutor. It was more the fact that the plant-duck was really quite a likeable, personable individual and compared to Phantom Duck he was hardly scary at all.

Phantom frowned at Morgana's gate, feeling a bit like a third wheel. Things were going well in this universe ... how could he help?

"Hey!"

He turned to the sound of Gosalyn's voice.

Gosalyn's hair was done up in a high ponytail. She was wearing a loose skirt that matched her moulded baby pink turtle neck angora sweater and there was enough pink in this picture for him to get sick on.

"What's up, ghostly guy?"  
"Gosalyn, honey ... what-are-you-wearing? Have you no self respect, young lady?"  
"Chill out, Mr. o'hallow. The 'Pins don't look twice at you if you're wearing pink ..." She raised the bottom edge of her sweater and pulled down the edge of her dark brown T shirt underneath, revealing bright yellow lettering that read 'Off the Rim'. Gosalyn grinned. "I'm a bit of a rebel like my mum is."  
"You certainly are." He grinned. "In any universe. Thank goodness, I was getting worried with all that pink."  
She laughed. "Nah, you're the only fruit loop 'round this here universe, ghoully."

"Gosalyn, how are you alive? I mean, I'm glad you are, but I would have thought Taurus Bulba would've killed you."  
Gosalyn widened her eyes, staring at Phantom Duck. "How'd you know about all that?"  
"In my universe I was the one that rescued you from him."  
"Oh, yeah, I get that now." Gosalyn considered him. "Well, in this universe, there was no you..." She darted her eyes about, looking for eavesdroppers.

_"In the heat of a summer night_  
_In the land of the dollar bill_  
_When the town of St. Canard died_  
_And I talk about it still_  
_When that jerk Taurus Bulba,_  
_Tried to take me on my own_  
_And he brought his guns of war_  
_And chased me outta the mall."_

"Yep, that kinda supports my 'you should be dead' theory, Gos."

_"Outside what a night it really was,_  
_Outside what a fight it really was_  
_I ducked and hid._  
_And the sound of the battle rang_  
_From the street right where I did hide_  
_Then there was strumming in the street_  
_And surging electricity."_

She sighed. "Very luckily for me, Bulba got caught up in the crossfire. He also proved a distraction for The King and so we were all able to escape that skirmish in one piece."  
"The King was in a street fight? With who?"  
"Sheesh, Phantom, you really got nothing on this universe. The King ... tried to take a punk on Megawatt for dealing in illicit hard rock. Mum was in the Ye Olde Bootleg club, like usual ..."  
"Why was Morgana in a sleazy down town pub? She's not ..."  
"Ahem! Excuse me? Do you want me to finish the story, Mr. dead-duck-walking or are you gonna be all arrogant and self-righteous?"  
Phantom hesitated. "Why is there an 'or' in that sentence?"  
Gosalyn rolled her eyes with a groan. "Mum was right: you are arrogant!"

_"It's a far cry away,_  
_From your warm bed and all,_  
_'Neath the neon signs at night,_  
_Where the punk cockerels brawl._  
_But there's nothing so ordinary,_  
_In fact just plain boring_  
_Than to stand in the bar_  
_Of a pub of The King."_

"There's no hard rock, rap, techno or country, heck, even Mozart's black-listed. There's just the music that he chooses for us to listen to."  
Gosalyn prodded him. "And that 'pub' happens to be the only place that Megawatt can play at without The King and Cecile coming in and destroying all the electronics, because mum's got protection charms on it. And as for being 'sleazy', you really shouldn't spit on something when it's the only way that some other people can get their bread and water." The young teenager walked on down the pathway into town with an upturned beak.

* * *

Phantom stood there thinking hard about things after Gosalyn had left.  
He spun around. "I've got it!" He cried out. "King, you're about to meet your match. Boy are you going down!" He raced up the pathway to Morgana's house and past the garden gnomes. From the porch he saw them watching him, cautious, wary but defeated.  
"Morgana!" He knocked on the door hard. "How long until that potion is ready?" He called out.

She opened the door for him and he rushed inside.  
"Another day yet. The toad venom has to swelter first, Phantom."  
He pushed past her. "This is great: listen: I'll take Drakey Mallard's place! He can stay with Bushroot and I'll just take his place instead."  
"You are the farthest thing from Drakey Mallard as I could imagine."  
"Thanks for the compliment." He smiled at her. "But I'm also a pretty good actor. Heck, I used to be him when I was a child. I'll take them all out easily ... from the inside."  
"Wait ... you're not thinking of killing them, are you?"  
Phantom blinked. "It's somewhat unavoidable if you want to stop a criminal properly."  
Morgana shook her head in disapproval. "I may be an evil businesswoman, but I'm not an evil person. I can't condone you killing them, even if they are criminals. Enough people die without us adding to the problem."  
"They'll see Drakey Mallard on the security cameras delivering the stuff, Morgana. He'll be the one on the list of casualties instead. You've gotta take your pick, Morg; not everyone survives a war."

"Oh, security cameras won't be a problem."

Megawatt's voice interrupted their conversation. Phantom looked up the stairs and the shadows leapt as Megawatt descended. The electric rodent chuckled as he stepped over and stood beside Morgana. The rodent hooked his arm around her waist. "It'll work just like in the fairytales, won't it, Ganny, baby?"  
"Yes, it certainly will, Meggy, my little crackle-pop."  
Phantom Duck backed off a step as they kissed and the sparks were quite literally flying. "I ... think Bushroot still has some floor space up at the tower, heh. Plenty of room for one more up there." Phantom Duck turned and rushed out the front door in alarm. "Please, somebody find me a way to get outta this nightmare!" He flew down the pathway and found himself back on the street with the gate safely behind him. 'Focus, Phantom.'

"Hey ... um ... you!"  
Phantom turned as Megawatt raced down the pathway and joined him, breathless on the safe side of the gate. "Hello, Megav-watt."  
"Yeah-heh ..." Megawatt breathed. "Those garden gnomes really give you a run for your money."  
"They'll be used to you by now ... Meggy. They're just chasing you for the sport."  
"Well, I normally have time to zap them. You know; the shock treatment. Morgana has in mind something really big, Phantom Duck, but I know the importance of conducting preliminary tests in order to better assure the success of the project."  
"Y'what?" Phantom blinked blankly at the electric geek. "In Quackonese that means ...?"  
"Let's practice you getting in there and acting like-."  
"Like a complete loser?"  
"I remember what it was like to be bullied." Megawatt frowned. "You live day to day, trying to get on with your own life, only to have it continuously caved in, crashed, smashed and your humiliation is all bottled up because you're powerless to prevent it!" Megawatt took a sharp breath in. "Oh, yes," he started on a suddenly more conversational tone, "I remember it well." Megawatt took Phantom Duck's shoulder. "What say you and me give this rotten bully a little taste of his own medicine?"  
"Why, Meggy?" Phantom Duck blinked at Megawatt, "do you think that someone like me could possibly do such a thing?"  
"Erm, yes."  
Phantom Duck grinned. "It's true; I'm a duck of many hidden talents." He turned from Megawatt. "So come on, then. Let's give The King a little shock treatment."

* * *

Darkwarrior Duck sat up, rubbing his head. "The in-flight service on that trip was positively criminal; if they existed I'd fire them out of a canon." He took his multi-gun from out of his pocket and checked it. Then he looked around and a feeling of horror filled him. "What has happened to my beautiful St. Canard?" He growled as he jumped up to a stand.

He saw chewing gum on the sidewalks and broken glass littered the ground everywhere. In the absence of glass every window along the street had wood shutters. "Who did this?"

That's when he saw the people walking past him. Pedestrians were going about, wearing disgraceful miniskirts and untidy bell bottom jeans. The clothing colour scheme for the whole city was apparently black, white and blue for men and peaches and cream for women. Hair was coiffed into absurd beehives and greasy flips ... Darkwarrior felt like his eyes were starting to bleed from the grotesque visual onslaught.

"This is an outrage!" He roared, making a couple swerve away from him as they passed, eating their ice creams. He rounded on the two pedestrians. "Cease and desist, citizens!"  
They blinked at him. "What's up?"  
"Eating ice cream, 'eh?" He glared at them. "Don't you know that stuff is loaded with processed sugar and saturated fats?"  
"Uh, yeah?"  
"So like, what of it?"  
He raised his gun and set it to flame thrower. "Guilty as charged."  
"Yikes!"  
_"S.O.S!"_  
The couple jumped aside and a nearby biker gang stopped their illegal loitering a few doors up and advanced on Darkwarrior. "Hey, Sputnik. Watcha doin', messing with these straights?"  
"Yo, like mad; what'd they done?"  
"It's 'have'!" Darkwarrior growled at the punk's hideous grammar. "It's either what 'have' they done or what did they do! Perhaps twenty years in jail will teach you how to enunciate correctly?"  
"That's like: totally messed up, man."  
"No foolin'."  
"What!" He exclaimed and then decided to begin again. "I am the terror that hunts in the night! I am not messed up, you are!"  
"Hey, that's some serious lyrics you're putting down there."  
"I am D-... Lyrics?"  
"Sounds black-market." They looked at him frowning. "You better bounce before your name ends up in the paper."  
"Black-market?"  
The sound of a door tinkling shut snapped the motorcycle gang's attention like a rubber band and they tore away from Darkwarrior's side, unbalancing him.

_"There's a thrill upon the hill. Let's go, let's go, let's go."_

They got on their motorcycles and their engines roared as Darkwarrior raised his gun. Darkwarrior dropped his aim to get clear as they tore up the street past him.

"I'll add speeding to your list of crimes!" He stood on the curb, glaring hotly after them. "Oh, this was so much easier with the droids ... still; I like a bit of a challenge ..." He put his gun away and rubbed his hands together with a grin. "It's time to clean up St Canard! Again!" He laughed. "... These criminals won't know what hit 'em!" He chuckled to himself and walked off.

* * *

There was a sound as the door to the uptown apartment clicked closed. The King turned around from viewing the lights on Audubon Bay from his window, but there was no one else in the room.

'It was just my imagination. No, wait, what's that?' He moved to his large wooden antique desk and picked up the letter. The writing swirled bluely upon it.

_" 'Since you won't do nothin' to save your doggone soul'?" _

The fur on the back of The King's neck prickled. He went to the door and twisted the knob. It opened in on him with a shove. Slumped unconscious onto the carpet at his feet were the security officers who'd been guarding the door.

"Shake, Rattle and Roll ..." He scrunched up the note, "Lamont, baby!"  
"Right here, big brother ..." Lamont hurried from the apartment next door and stared down at the unconscious guards. "Yo, we're being poked! Drakey!"  
Drakey hurried up the hallway. "Y-yes, y-your c-c-c-coolness?"  
" 'You seen anyone get in here?"  
"N-no, La-Lamont. I have not seen anybody unu-usual."  
"I ain't mustard on this." Lamont gritted.  
"Yeah, I ain't in a hurry to get to the chapel neither, little brother." The King grumbled. "Go check out what peep show we got on this one-eyed cat."  
"I'm gone, big brother." Lamont hurried off.  
"Y-yes, sir!" Drakey squawked and dashed off after Lamont.


	23. A King Verse Part 5

_"Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble. Round about the cauldron go, in the poisoned entrails throw. Toad that under cold stone days and nights hath thirty one. Sweltered venom sleeping got, boil thou first i' the charmed pot."_

_- Said William Shakespeare._

* * *

**DARK DUCK: CONTINUUM CONUNDRUM**

* * *

**A King Verse: Part Five**

* * *

It had just gotten onto nightfall and it was time to open the club. Gosalyn approached the magically hidden alley door and climbed onto the small garbage can that stood in front of it.

"I am the Terror that Hunts in the night!"

"Phantom Duck?" She squinted into the darkness.

"I am the jackal that gnaws at your bones."

"I get it!" Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "You keep repeating yourself hoping someone'll eventually notice you."

"I am Darkwarrior Duck!" The mallard raised a huge nasty looking gun up at her, giving Gosalyn a shiver as she remembered Taurus Bulba. "This is the last time for you, you criminal."  
"Drakey Mallard! What a surprise to see you here, Drakey. At night, in the dark." Gosalyn laughed nervously, pressing her fingers against the wall and feeling the magic door open warmly against her feathers.  
"You were obviously not listening. I'm Darkwa-"  
"Oh dear, you're right! I hear my mother calling me right now! Gotta go!" She stepped back off the rubbish bin and passed through the wall.

The sound of an explosion from just outside shook the walls and echoed around the empty club. Gosalyn instinctively jumped back and dived under a table. In the darkness she stared at the wall as it remained solid and intact. Now he was banging on the wall with his fist.  
"Gosalyn."  
"You're not allowed in." Gosalyn breathed in the safety of the forest of tables and chair legs, "we have a code."  
She cast a new anti-malice charm on the wall.

"You can't stay in there forever, little miss pinfeathers."

Gosalyn ignored the taunt from the other side of the wall and added yet another protection charm to the others.

"Mu-um!" Gosalyn yelled as she ducked through the forest of tables and chair legs to get to the telephone at the bar. She picked it up and dialed. "Mum! Another one of these crazy Mallards's jumped out of the multiversal quackerware-box! This new one just tried to kill me!"  
"Oh, my goodness! Are you alright? What sort of weapon was it, honey?"  
"He tried to fire a missile at me!" Gosalyn screwed up her face, remembering the sound as he'd tried to use the same weapon to open up a hole in the wall; "talk about overkill." She finished sarcastically.  
"Well, you're safe inside the club, sweetie. The protection charms will easily hold up against a missile blast and the anti-malice charms won't let anyone intending violence in. Just make sure they're all freshened up before you open, sweetie."  
"Sure, mum." Gosalyn sighed and hung up. "I'm sick of being the weakling. Hiding; always hiding!" She reached behind the bar for the packet of matches to light the candle. "Ye olde damsel in distress routine; it stinks! Dad doesn't hide or let people push him around."

She crossed back to the wall facing the alleyway. "On the other hand it beats the heck out of being the dead thing that'd be splattered under half a ton of bricks by now, I've gotta say." She went about and recast a few more charms, turning on the lights as she did. Then she headed to the bathroom to dress down to her full grunge outfit to get ready for the patrons.

* * *

Gosalyn was already busy at the bar when Megawatt stormed into the club and found himself stuck behind a disorganised line. Phantom Duck and Bushroot hurried to keep up with him.

"Can I have a rum and coke?"  
"Excuse me, valued customers!" Megawatt sparked loudly, "kindly move aside or else you may get fried!" He sparked in warning and the patrons gave him plenty of room.  
Phantom Duck could see Gosalyn was physically quite alright. He knew she had a hardy temperament which made her pretty stable mentally.

"Are you alright, lumi?" The electric rodent with his long plaits put his hands up on the bar and watched Gosalyn as she handed over the change for the drink to the customer.  
"I'm alright, dad, honest." Gosalyn reached for a wine glass from above their heads.  
"What did this Darkwarrior guy look like?"  
"Well, he looked like ... him, actually." Gosalyn pointed over the bar at Phantom Duck. "Only he was dressed in dark purple and with that ridiculously huge gun of his ..." Gosalyn snorted. "He was certainly trying to compensate for something." She looked up at the next customer. "Hi Mr. Quacker, the usual?"

As Gosalyn continued to serve drinks Phantom Duck mused on Darkwarrior Duck. "Bushroot, Drakey's been with you all this time?"  
Bushroot crossed his vines. "Oh, please!" The plant-duck sighed. "Yes, of course he was with me! Drakey wouldn't step on a cockroach without checking it had health insurance first. You're a much more likely suspect, Phantom Duck." Bushroot prodded him.  
"Are you guys not listening to me?" Gosalyn snapped as she poured a beer from the tap. "It's another duplicate."  
"It's true that my sanity is only just so-so, Bushroot. I certainly wouldn't put it past me to do something like that. And the fact that I have no gun now doesn't mean I didn't have one in my hands earlier. It would be a simple matter for me to dispose of it." Phantom Duck answered calmly. "But it so happens that I was working undercover with Megawatt this evening."  
"He's right, Bushy. We were uptown."

"Putting on the Ritz, were you boys?"

Phantom blinked at the sound of the mallard's laugh. "Quackerjack?"  
"Jack Quacker." The mallard in red and blue grinned back at him and flicked out a business card. "Owner of Quackerjack industries, and of course," He giggled, "I head the Quackertoy store franchise." He slurped his drink.  
"Why are you so happy today, Jack?" Megawatt grizzled.  
"Why?" Jack Quacker grinned. "I just closed the deal and bought out that last dreadful little video arcade in Duckberg. Now there are only real toys for one hundred miles."  
Phantom Duck blinked. "The 'last'? No video arcades in St. Canard?"  
"Oh, perish the thought!" Quacker exclaimed.

"Hey, wait a minute, Mr. Quacker?"

"Yes, Gosalyn, dear?"  
"What has rental movies got to do with toys?"  
"Oh, ha." Jack Quacker had a slightly nervous edge to his giggle. "Never you mind, Gos, hon. It's just business."  
Phantom looked at Jack Quacker. "If, undoubtedly, on the slightly shady side."  
"Here is a pot calling the kettle black." Jack Quacker prodded his back outfit. "But I must say that noir look really is quite fetching on you."  
"Thanks for the compliment, Quackerjack-Quacker." Phantom Duck stumbled over the toy businessman's name and kept talking. "But it's actually a slightly different impression I'm trying to give here."  
"Oh, well it was either that or Goth." Jack Quacker smiled cheerily at him. "Goodness, but what a boring place St. Canard would be without variety."  
Phantom Duck blinked at him. "How forgiving, Quackerjack. I wondered why I like you."  
Jack Quacker patted his shoulder. "Megs here will tell you I like to think pos-itively." He put down his empty glass. "Now, I really must dash. I have an appointment with Mr. McDuck's architect's tomorrow morning about the designs for my new superstore complex."  
"Oh, while you're there-?" Megawatt's nose twitched.  
Jack Quacker giggled and he hugged Megawatt with one arm. "I look after my friends, don't I, Megs? Of course I'll scout out the music stores for you while I'm there."  
Megawatt nodded with a smile on his face. "Thanks. Have a good trip, Quackers."

* * *

Phantom Duck blinked and quietly followed Jack Quacker. "Why are there no video arcades in St. Canard? It can't be all your doing. Is it because they don't play rock and roll tunes on them?"  
"Sure they do ..." Quackerjack shrugged, "The King even has his own private little arcade set up in Bird Cage Apartments. But you see, there's no pocket change on the streets of St. Canard, Mr. Goth, and those machines are coin operated. My stores, on the other hand, are all equipped with EFTPOS." Jack Quacker stepped closer to him. "And never underestimate the power of a good business arrangement, Mr. Goth, especially not when it has a solid financial common sense backing it up."  
"You mean you control the market." Phantom Duck translated.  
"Have yourself a lovely evening, Mr. Goth." Jack Quacker stepped away with a grin and headed towards the exit.


End file.
